


Something

by Rocknrolldamnation73, sapphic_writer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst, Angst and Humor, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Destiel - Freeform, Emotional, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Realistic, Slow Build, Slow Burn, mature - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-30 06:50:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 49,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15091358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocknrolldamnation73/pseuds/Rocknrolldamnation73, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphic_writer/pseuds/sapphic_writer
Summary: Cas just moved into a new apartment after the death of his brother Gabriel and a traumatic breakup with his abusive boyfriend. One night while wallowing in his sorrows he heard a voice from the other side of the wall: Dean Winchester. They begin speaking every day through their shared wall and become as close as two strangers can be, supporting each other through good times and bad. Though the anonymity of the wall is comforting, it may be worth it to do away with the barrier altogether.





	1. Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A song to listen to while reading this chapter is: Let's Put the X in Sex by KISS. A special thanks to the writers of Twist and Shout, Gabriel and Standbyme, for we pay homage to the line, "I can dig Elvis."

Dean flopped on the bed and sighed. It had been a long day at the shop and he was beat. That’s when he heard it for the first time; the crying through the wall. His first thought was that there was no way in hell he would get any sleep with these paper thin walls. He briefly wondered why the person on the other side of the wall was so upset. He also wondered why he hadn’t checked if he could hear everything his neighbors were doing before moving into the apartment a couple weeks ago. After a half hour of loud sobbing dean buried his head under his pillow and settled into a sound sleep.

                                                                                                             *********  
This went on for three more days. At this point, Dean was seriously concerned. He wasn’t the kind of mushy guy to talk about feelings and emotions but there must have been something seriously wrong with this guy. After a half hour of listening to this guy cry, he caved and tapped lightly on the wall. The crying stopped for a second.

“Hey... are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, completely okay.”

“Well you being ‘completely okay’ has kept me up half the week”

“I’m sorry. Some rough stuff is happening in my life right now.”

Dean paused.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do you really want to listen to my bullshit problems?”

“No, but I’ll do it anyway.”

“Okay. My life is a complete wreck right now. I’m a 25-year-old, man with a mountain pile of debt and so many other things are falling apart right now. For example, I just got dumped and my brother died in a car accident because some stupid ass drunk driver ran a red light and smashed into the driver’s side of the car. Not to mention that I’m in a tiny apartment talking to a total random stranger about my damn problems.”

Dean’s eyes widened as he tried to figure out what the fuck you’re supposed to say to that. He’s sorry? Should he make a joke? Should he bake the guy some cookies?

“That sounds rough dude. Is there anything that I can, like, do?”

“What kind of an idiot drives drunk? My brother didn’t do anything wrong! He was driving to a damn friends house but does God give a fuck? Out of all the bastards in this world and he takes my gentle caring older brother. Did the drunk fucker care that he killed my brother? He didn’t seem all too sad when he was informed on KHQ news, and all they’ve got to say is, “Up next, the traffic report. ” My stupid ex Jorge, decides to say to hell with my feelings and goes ahead and shags with another guy! Like who does that! A stupid asshole that’s who! And I walked in on him while he was fucking that other guy in our bedroom. Yep, do I get an apology? Do I get any support from my friends? No!”

Christ, this guy’s life is shit.

“Trust me, I know what it’s like to lose someone. It helps to find an outlet.”

“What type of outlet?”

“I found smashing cars with a hammer helpful, but you know, you can paint or something too.”

“Smashing cars with a hammer?”

“It’s therapeutic.”

“Okay….I’m not a very aggressive guy and I’m terrible at art.”

“What about music?”

“Well, I do listen to Elvis sometimes.”

“I can dig Elvis.”

“What type of music do you listen to?”

“Classic rock mostly.”

“Like hair bands and stuff?”

“Yup.”

“Don’t they wear make-up? A bit odd isn’t it?”

“No, it’s awesome.”

Dean got up from the bed and grabbed his phone. He plugged in the speakers and started blasting Let’s Put the X in Sex.

“....Very sexual.”

“Just how I like it.”

“Hot chicks in black lace coming into your room?”

“Close.”

“So you’d look into a guy’s eyes and say, let’s put the x in sex?”

“And only if they are worthy will they understand the reference.”

“Let’s say, that they didn’t get the reference but you are really into the person?”

“...I just met you dude.”

“Bro, I’m not hitting on you. Just sayin’, nope never mind. Look I’m sorry for keeping you up these past nights and for spilling all my shitty problems on you. I don’t even know your name.”

“Who needs names anyway.”

“Well, it’s just a bit awkward not knowing the name of the person that I just spilled my personal problems to. Guess that’s my own fault though, isn’t it?”

“Dean, it’s Dean.”

“I’m Castiel but people call me Cas for short.”

“Well Cas for short, it’s nice talking to you. If you ever want to talk again you know where to find me.”

“Yeah, just a wall away.”

Dean smiled and shut off his music.

“Goodnight Cas.”

“Goodnight Dean. I think I can dig classic rock.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please comment and let us know what you thought :)


	2. Cas

Cas leaned against the counter. No customers had been in since he’d opened the flower shop. He began thinking of the conversation he’d had with the mystery guy named Dean. Embarrassment swept over him, his cheeks going slightly red when he thought of how Dean had only talked to him in the first place because he’d heard him crying. It was a quarter past noon and Cas’ stomach growled hungrily. He pulled out the lunch bag that’d he prepared earlier this morning at his apartment and started eating his turkey sandwich. The place was extremely depressing but thinking back to the conversation last night made him feel a bit better. The phone in his jean pocket began to vibrate and play  _ single ladies _ .

“Hello, Mom.”

“Hello, Castiel. Gabriel’s funeral is the day after tomorrow and I was wondering if you could be the one to bring all the flowers, seeing as you’re a florist and all.”

Castiel frowned.

“You want me to be the florist for my brother’s funeral? You didn’t stop to think that I wouldn’t be in enough emotional turmoil but now you want me to bring the flowers for his damn funeral ceremony?”

“Cas, you know this family doesn’t have much money and don’t act like the whole family isn’t mourning Gabe’s death. He was my son.”

Castiel knew this was the starting of a possible guilt trip.

“I’m your son too. A son that you’re asking to decorate his brother’s funeral room. I know our family is in somewhat of a financial ruin, you don’t have to constantly remind me.”

Cas heard his mother sigh. He really wanted to hang up the phone and go back to pretending that his brother hadn’t died and that he hadn’t seen his boyfriend plowing into some other guy’s ass.

“Do it for Gabriel.”

“Goodbye, Mom.”

“Don’t you dare hang—”

Cas ended the call anyway. The bell tied by a string on the front door knob ringed, alerting Cas that a customer had come into the shop. He lifted his head to look up at the first customer of the day.

“Welc—” The greeting died in his throat. It was his ex-boyfriend that had entered the shop.

“Not still mad are you babe?”

“You cheated on me.”

Jorge waved him off. Not even looking at Castiel as he eyed the flowers casually.

“What do you want me to say? I got lonely because you were always here, at this stupid shop. You’d be better off if you just sold it instead of going bankrupt.”

Castiel felt anger and the sting of tears beginning to form in his eyes. 

“Get out of my shop. I told you that I never wanted to see you again.”

Jorge grinned at Castiel.

“You’ll come back crawling to me Cas. Eventually, you’ll see that no one else will take in your sorry pathetic ass and you’ll be begging to be with me again.”

“I said GET OUT!” Castiel roared, his hands starting to shake from the sudden burst of rage that’d filled his body.

Jorge backed away but otherwise didn’t seem too affected by Castiel’s raised voice.

“One day. You’ll see it all too clearly.” He said before exiting the shop. Giving a wave and walking down the sidewalk.

Castiel’s lips trembled slightly. He could feel the first tear beginning to fall and slide down his cheek. He slowly slid down to the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees. 

“I miss you, Gabriel. I wish I could call you. I wish I could hear your comforting voice again.” Cas’ voice came out shaky. He was barely holding back the sobs that were building at the back of his throat, almost choking him. 

********

Cas wearily made his way to the door of his tiny apartment room. It was nearly half an hour past five o’clock. He’d just gotten done locking up the shop, that had no customers enter it except if you counted the surprise visit from his ass of an ex-boyfriend. He’d shed a few tears and fought back his sobs for a few minutes before getting back up on his feet and putting on a false smile in case anybody decided to come inside.

“Home sweet home.” He muttered, shutting and locking the door behind him. The living room space was also his bedroom. His couch was a hide a bed. He owned a small T.V, that sat on an end table. It barely worked on most days and emitted loud crackling noises for the most part. His stereo was his pride and joy. Gabriel had given it to him for his birthday one year. It was one of those two in one kind that played CD’s and records. Salty tears were still in his eyes. His cheeks were raw from the number of times Castiel had rubbed them to keep them clean from tears. Cas wandered over to the stereo, his chest starting to hurt because all it did was remind of him of his brother. He didn’t know if Dean was home or not but he didn’t want Dean to hear him crying again so he bent down to his box of records and selected a random Elvis album and played it at a low volume that would hopefully block out his sobs from Dean’s room.

Castiel slumped down onto the couch. Curling into a ball and let out the sobs that had been begging to be let free since he’d seen Jorge. He hadn’t heard the first soft taps on the other side of the wall. It wasn’t until there was one loud, near wall shattering, knock that made Cas jump from his fetal position and crawl over to the wall.

“What?”

“I like your music.”

“Th-thanks. I quite like it too. Sorry if I disturbed you. I could turn it down.”

“I don’t mind, not sure about the other neighbors though.”

“They haven’t given a complaint since I moved in a couple months ago. I bet they might be a little annoyed but then I listen to their children scream on the weekends so this makes us even, I guess.” 

“Or maybe they also have decent taste in music.”

“It’s possible but highly unlikely. How was your day?” Castiel couldn’t help but be a little curious to find out what this guy did during the day. He could only imagine that he might be some drug dealer who was covered in piercings and tattoos. 

“Pretty average. I work at a car shop so the most exciting thing I saw today was a flooded engine.”

Was he some old fat guy? Oh jeez, what if he was one of those guys that never shut up about cars? Castiel chastised himself. Everyone had to have that  _ one _ thing that they were passionate about but damn it, there were too many old guys fascinated with knowing about cars. 

“Cool. I don’t know much about the inner workings of a car or anything about cars.” Castiel laughed nervously.

“Not many people do, that’s what keeps me in business.”

“That’s good. One’s stupidity is sometimes beneficial.” Castiel couldn’t help but think of his own idiocy when he’d chosen to date, Jorge. 

“Or profitable.”

“Guess I should’ve gone into the mechanical business instead of trying to run a business.” 

“I’m doing two in one. I bought the shop a couple years ago.”

“You must be intelligent to be able to manage everything.”

“Not really. My brother got all the brains of the family.”

Castiel thought fleetingly about Gabriel. He’d gotten accepted to a few ivy league colleges. Again, he bit back a sob.

“Well still, managing a business isn’t simple.”

“You’re telling me. Sometimes I’m cooped up all weekend doing paperwork and balancing the books.”

“The stress can get too much sometimes. I’m thinking of letting mine go before it drags me into bankruptcy. Someone brought that to my attention today.” Stupid, fucking Jorge. Castiel thought that maybe he had a small point though. 

“It’s all about marketing and advertising. If people don’t know about you they can’t buy from you.”

“My mother wants me to be the one to make all the decisions as far as the decorations go for my brother’s funeral.” Castiel blurted out. He was still angry over her demanding for him to be the one to be the florist for the funeral.

“That’s pretty fucked up. When is it?”

“The day after tomorrow. So much for preparation. I also ended up seeing my ex-today.” Castiel sniffed pitifully. “He had a lot to say for someone who’d been a cheater.”

“Fuck him. He can piss off, it sounds like he’s a real dick. And as for decorations, who needs them? It’s a funeral for god’s sake.”

Castiel considered Dean’s words but Jorge’s voice kept popping into his head. The replay of him telling Cas that no one would ever want him.

“I’m not good enough.” Castiel choked on the words. A haggard sob tearing from his throat. 

“No, dude, I’ve only known you a day but I think you’re great.”

Cas laughed once without humor.

“I could be a really terrible person, ya know? One that goes around and plays the victim. Maybe I deserve this. I’m pathetic.”

“It’s not your fault. Some messed up shit happened and you’re dealing with it the way you need to. You can’t feel bad for feeling bad dude.”

Cas hugged his knees and rested his head against the wall. A small laugh mixed in with something that sounded like a whimper came out of him.

“Yeah. I keep feeling it’s my fault. My fault Gab died and my fault that my relationship fell apart. I don’t want to be bothering you, Dean. I do that to a lot to people. Constantly being a bother. I’m sorry. So sorry.” Castiel didn’t know who he was apologizing to. Was he apologizing to Dean or to Gabriel for letting him down?

“I’m not bothered. I enjoy talking to you.”

Another pained, wounded sound came from him. Castiel didn’t want Dean to feel obligated to talk to him. Cas felt that if he had to listen to himself that he’d be driven to the land of boredom or depression.

“I’m j-just going to g-get some s-sleep.” 

“Sleep well Cas.”

“You too, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Tell us what you thought :)


	3. Dean

Dean browsed around the shop looking at various items. Cas seemed pretty upset yesterday and Dean thought it might be nice to get him a gift, especially with his brother’s funeral. Dean found his name in the obituary. Gabriel Novak. He had four brothers and was just accepted into some pretty great schools. Dead before he peaked; what a waste. 

Dean thought back to Sam and his mother. Death is such a waste. He shook the thought away. 

After wandering around a bit more, picking up random objects and putting them back down, he spotted something. Perfect. He carried it up to the cash register and the cashier looked at him skeptically before ringing it up. Dean quickly paid and rushed out. 

The shop was right across from Dean’s Mechanics and Motors. He came in to find one of his idiot mechanics putting the carburetor in upside down.

“I leave for two seconds and you almost get me a lawsuit.”

Frankie turned around and frowned. 

“What do you mean?” 

Dean grabbed the carburetor from her hand and put it in properly. Frankie leaned over and pressed up to him. 

“Sorry,” she said when he had finished, “I guess I just forgot.”

Dean rolled his eyes and walked to another car to start checking it out. 

“Another one of those forgetful moments and you might find yourself jobless.”

Dean managed to replace the timing belt on a firebird before wiping his hands and calling the customer to tell them their ride was fixed. After that, he retired to his office to work on the mountain of paperwork he had to deal with.

   He stayed an hour late before finally leaving, grabbing his coat and bag before he left. 

   On his way out the door, he got a text from Eric. 

   “Meet me at Changes. Having a good time with Stacy and Viv.” 

   This was followed by a picture of all of them lifting their beer glasses in a toast. Dean shook his head and smiled. Why the hell not?

 

**********

 

   Dean walked in and searched for his friends, getting hit on no fewer than three times on the way. He rarely had to pay for drinks here and this was no exception, he already had one in his hand. Finally, he saw Viv waving on the other end of the dance floor beckoning him over. Dean joined the group and smiled. 

   “Are you guys staying out of trouble?”

   Stacy quirked up the edge of her lips in a mischievous half smile and said, “Never. Why would you expect so much of us?” 

   Dean chuckled and looked around. 

   “Where’s Eric.”

   Viv rolled her eyes. 

   “Off making out with some new guy. They’ve probably made it to third base by now.” 

   Dean was about to make a remark when a tall dark skinned guy came up to him and asked to dance. Dean handed his beer to Viv and let the guy lead him onto the dance floor. They had fun for a couple dances before Dean said he had to go, winking at the guy as he walked off. Finally, he spotted Eric at the edge of the room talking to some dude who walked away. Dean approached Eric. 

   “What the hell Eric, you invite me here and ditch me.”

   Eric looked towards the guy he was speaking to and replied, “I got a little preoccupied, he’s off to get us some more drinks so you should probably go soon. Don’t want him thinking I’m flirting with you now.” 

   “Okay, I’ll leave you and… what’s his face to your business.”

“Jorge.”

Dean turned around and wrinkled his brow. 

“What.”

“His name is Jorge, now get lost.” 

No, surely this can’t be the same Jorge Cas was dating. Dean tried to get a good look at him. Average height, black short hair, wiry frame, jeans and a t-shirt. Not Dean’s type but he could see how he might be attractive to other people. He memorized as many details as he could before being led back onto the dancefloor by another guy.

 

**********

 

Dean staggered back up to his apartment super drunk. He had spent most of the night drinking rather than dancing. He hung his present to Cas on the doorknob before entering his own apartment, taking a shower, and crashing on the bed. 

“Ugh,” he groaned. 

“Hi.”

“Ugrenun hmm.”

“Oh okay.”

“I gut somethin fur you. Door.”

“You got me a door? How much have you had to drink, Dean?”

“Ss on thuh door.”

“You must be seriously drunk, man.”

“Just go tuh thuh door doood.”

“Uh….Okay. I’ll go to my door then.”

Dean could hear some shuffling and the door opening and closing.

“Thanks, Dean!” 

“Alvas.”

“Oh, Dean….seriously how many drinks have you had?”

“Luhts just sey ther aren't thet meny on theh woll now.” 

“....I don’t envy the hangover that you’re going to have in the morning.”

“Yuh like et?”

“I love the Elvis ken doll.”

“It luhks like you weenk weenk.”

“Uuuuhhhh…..You haven’t even seen me, Dean. Are you attempting to drunken flirt with me?”

“No.”

“Yeah cause that’d be weird. Did you have fun?”

Dean thought back on the night. 

“What did Paco look like?”

“How am I supposed to know? I don’t know a Paco. What’s a Paco?” 

“I men Jon ear Jone.”

“Jorge? He looks like an elephant’s ass.”

“Buhsides thet.”

“Black oily hair, full lips, light brown eyes, kinda tall, lean, not the most muscled guy.”  

“Mmkay.”

“Did you see him at a club or something?”

“Nah, just thught I deed.”

“Okay. Thank you again for the doll. It was sweet of you to think of me, Dean. I think I ought to let you sleep. You have aspirin, right?”

“Yeh. Night Cees.”

“Night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drunken Dean is the best lol Let us know what you thought and we hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	4. Cas

Cas drove up to the funeral home in his old 78’ Lincoln. His brother Balthazar, stood outside of the building in a two-piece black suit. Cas parked his car and got out to meet him.

“No flowers?”

“Someone told me once that there doesn’t need to be flowers at a funeral. Does mom have any idea how much it costs to bring fresh flowers to decorate a place like this?” Castiel shook his head. “Anyway, how’s the rest of the family?”

“Grieving. Mom is actually upset about the flowers not being here but other than that everyone’s been pretty quiet.”

“Let her be upset at me. How long until the ceremony starts?”

“About ten minutes. It’s too emotional in there right now. Can you imagine when we have to get up there to say our goodbyes?”

Castiel knew he’d be crying. Balthazar would probably try to keep it together but Castiel suspected that after everyone left, he’d show his emotions.

“Is there going to be a reception?”

“No. Mom wanted me to pay for that even though she knows that I’m broke. How ‘bout we go get drinks later? When was the last time you went out, Cas?”

Cas couldn’t believe that Balthazar wanted to discuss having drinks while their brother was lying dead in a casket in the building that they were standing in front of.

“It’s been awhile. I’ve been busy with the flower shop.”

“You can’t become a hermit! Come on, after Jorge when have you had some fun?”

“I don’t want to talk about going out to have drinks before saying goodbye to Gabe.”

Michael opened the front door. He looked to Cas then Balthazar with a solemn look.

“It’s starting you guys.”

Cas started feeling nauseous. He didn’t think that he could be able to get through this, especially if the casket was going to be open.

“Don’t worry. The casket’s closed. Mom didn’t want to see Gabe’s body lying in a casket.”

Cas didn’t know how Michael had guessed what he’d been thinking but he was thankful nonetheless. Walking into the room, Cas saw black drapes hanging over the windows and also noticed the glossy wooden floor that looked freshly polished. On either side of the room were ten rows of pews. Down the middle was the narrow aisle that led to the altar where the oak wooden casket was. Beside it was a small platform with a podium on it. Cas saw his mother sitting on one of the front row pews to the left. He wanted to do his best to avoid having any contact with her today. He noticed one of Gabe’s friends sitting on one of the middle pews to the right. Cas couldn’t remember his name but then he’d only met him once or twice. He could also see all his siblings sitting around their mother, looking as if they were trying to comfort her. 

“I’ll be sitting with mom,” said Michael, patting both Cas and Balthazar on the back. 

“Don’t worry about him, Cas,” Balthazar whispered. Glaring at Michael as he walked away.

“He’s been a jerk since the moment he could talk. Let’s just sit near the back on the right side,” Cas said. Walking towards the last three rows. 

“Will you be going up to say goodbye?”

Cas thought for a moment. He wanted to say his goodbyes but not in front of everybody. He didn’t want people to see him break down. Dean had already heard his many breakdowns throughout the past week, and he’d been sweet to him, but Cas still couldn’t help but think that Dean felt obligated to listen and talk to Cas. 

“Maybe once everyone starts to leave. I don’t want to be an emotional wreck up there, ya know?” Cas sat down. He could hear the creaking of the wood as it adjusted to his weight.

“I get it. Gained a few pounds?” He teased, avoiding Cas’ elbow jab as he took his seat next to Castiel. The wood also creaking underneath his added weight.

“Shut up.”

Cas saw Balthazar look him over. He felt self-conscious under Balthazar’s gaze.

“Cas be honest with me, will you?”

“Of course. What is it?”

Balthazar gave him a look that was mixed with seriousness and concern.

“You’ve been eating regularly, right? And getting decent sleep?”

He really didn’t want to respond. Cas had gotten good at lying about how he was doing and feeling but he couldn’t bear to lie to Balthazar. Not when Balthazar had been the kindest to him next to Gabriel.

“No. I haven’t been able to keep food down and I toss and turn all night.”

Balthazar’s worried expression darkened. 

“If I could only get the chance to punch Jorge in the face.”

“Balthazar don’t start. Not at Gabe’s funeral, when the ceremony is seconds of starting.”

The chatter had begun to lose its volume and the pastor had made his presence known. Cas heard Balthazar sigh heavily but he didn’t voice his opinion until later that day.

*****

The funeral session had ended. Cas’ mom paid no mind to either Balthazar or Cas when she made her way down the aisle to exit the building. A few people hung around towards the doors for small talk but no one was paying attention to the casket. Balthazar hadn’t gotten too emotional during his goodbyes but his voice had gradually turned gruff.

“Here’s your chance. I’ll wait for you here and then I’m taking you out to a bar.” Balthazar said quietly. Giving Cas some space so that he could get out to the aisle. 

Cas walked carefully and slightly clumsily up the aisle. When he reached the casket, Cas gingerly put his hand on the lid. He couldn’t think of what to say. What can someone say to the casket holding your dead brother inside it? 

“I’m sorry Gabe. I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the hospital in time. I’m sorry for letting you down when you needed me. I came up here intending to say goodbye but….saying goodbye makes it all too final. I know you’re not coming back,” Cas’ voice broke towards the end. “Kinda stupid to think, isn’t it? But deep down I’d hoped that all of this was a vivid dream. I kept thinking after I got the phone call from Michael, that I’d surely wake up in my bed and you’d still be alive. That all this was a terrible drawn-out nightmare, but here I am standing in front of this casket, trying to say goodbye to you. I’m still thinking that I’ll wake up and this past week will have never happened. I keep hoping that I’ll wake up to the phone ringing and it’ll be you on the other end talking to me. I miss you, Gabe.”

“You’re not going to say goodbye are you?” 

Cas jumped at the sound of Balthazar’s voice coming from behind him. 

“I tried but….” Cas trailed off uncertainly before continuing. Attempting to put words to the conflict he was feeling. “I can’t seem to find a way to say goodbye.”

Cas felt a hand on his shoulder.

“No one’s forcing you to say goodbye. Gabe wouldn’t want you blubbering over him anyhow. Let’s get out of here and get you drunk,” Balthazar said light-heartedly, pulling Cas away from the casket and out the door.

“I don’t want to get drunk!”

“Fine. Go back to your apartment and be anti-social. Who do you even talk to? The walls?”

Cas blushed and ducked his head away from Balthazar’s sight. He had no intention of telling his brother about the fact that he talked to his neighbor, whom he’s never visually met, through the walls.

“Fine I’ll go to a bar with you but I’m not going to get wasted.”

*****

The bass was far too loud. Balthazar had left him at the bar after he’d ordered them drinks saying that he was going to find himself someone for tonight. His brother could be truly disgusting. The bartender placed his bloody mary in front of him and went back over to the other side of the bar to chat up a pretty brunette. Cas looked down at his drink and felt no desire to drink it. A lean tallish guy with light brown messy curly hair sat down on the stool next to Cas. He heard him order a few drinks from the bartender. After a few seconds of waiting for the drinks, the guy turned towards Cas.

“Do you work at the post office?”

Cas felt nothing but confusion take over his thought process.

“Uh, no.”     

“I thought you did because I saw you checking out my package.”

What package? Cas knew what the guy was hinting at but seriously, there was no package to look at. The guy was sort of attractive but Cas wouldn’t say he was a George Clooney. 

“Um…I just came here to have a couple drinks with my brother, not to have cheesy pickup lines thrown at me.”                 

“I can throw something else at you.”   

“Uh huh. It’s probably the size of a thimble.”          

“Would you like to find out? I think you’ll be surprised if ya know what I mean.”

“Would I now?” Cas took a large gulp of his drink and coughed. He’d need to be really drunk or just plain desperate to consider this guy.                                    

“Yep, because there are eight planets in the solar system baby, but there will only be seven after I destroy Uranus.”

Cas felt horrified. Had he just been verbally molested? He wanted to find Balthazar and get the hell out of this place.

“Ummm…well then I uh don’t know what to say.”     

“You don’t have to talk if your mouth is busy elsewhere.”

“I think I’d like you better if your mouth was busy elsewhere if ya know what I mean.”

The bartender returned with the guy's drinks, setting them down in front of the guy who’d been annoying Cas. It was just the guy's mouth that annoyed Cas, but maybe he’d be more attractive if his mouth were busy doing something else.

“I’m going to go deliver these to my friends. Meet me by the bathrooms if you’re interested.”

The guy left with his drinks, leaving Cas feeling half tempted to take the guy up on his offer and still a bit confused. Balthazar had been telling him to have fun but Cas felt nervous. What if this guy was a real freak? Cas thought for a moment longer before getting off the stool and started making his way towards the restrooms. Castiel leaned against the wall near the restrooms, keeping an eye out for the strange guy that had somehow caught his interest. He waited for a couple minutes before he saw the guy making his way over to him. Before Cas could say anything or think to say something, the guy crashed his lips onto Cas’ and began making out with him. It took a couple seconds for Cas to respond. Cas felt the guy pulling him closer, his hand wandering down Cas’ back. Cas kissed him back urgently. His lips felt firm, not thin and chapped like Jorge’s. Hands wandered as they felt up each other. Cas was pushed back onto the wall, the guy's body keeping him trapped. They made out for a couple minutes before Cas pulled away, gasping for breath.

“You never told me your name.” 

“Eric, but you can call me daddy.”

“My name’s Castiel.”

“Okay daddy we’re gonna leave now. What the fuck kinda kinky shit are you getting into?” Balthazar abruptly interrupted their conversation. Yanking Castiel away from Eric and out the bar.

“I was doing what you told me to do,” Muttered Cas. Balthazar walked him to his car and waited for him to unlock the passenger’s door.

“Which was?”

Cas tossed his arms up.

“To have fun. You cockblocked me.”

Balthazar busted out laughing. He had to lean against the door for support.

“If I don’t get to get laid then neither do you.” Balthazar barely managed to say as he struggled to get into the passenger seat.

“Not my fault no one wanted to shag you. That wasn’t fair to block me.”

Balthazar flipped him off and grinned up towards Cas once he’d gotten into his seat.

“Can you drive me home?”

“Yeah I kinda have to ‘cause you clearly can’t drive and you’d probably smash my car if I let you drive, ” Cas didn’t particularly like his car, but it was his only means of transportation, unless he took the bus, and he really didn’t enjoy being crammed in with a bunch of weird strangers that usually had colds.

“Then get in and take me home,” Balthazar said, looking up at Cas.

“You’re an ass.”

“But you love me.”

“Only ‘cause you’re my brother.”

*****

“You ain’t nothing but a hound dog cryin’ all the time. You ain’t nothing but a hound dog cryin’ all the time. Well, you ain’t never catched a rabbit and you ain’t no friend of mine,” Cas sang a little too loudly, as he walked into his room. For once, he felt happy and wouldn’t be crying himself to sleep tonight. He flopped down onto his couch and kept singing to himself.

“Um, how was your day?”

Cas got off the couch and walked over to the wall.

“Went to my brother’s funeral, then to a bar. The bar was pretty fun. Had a drink and met a guy.”

“Are you okay?”

“Never been better. I actually had a good time tonight. My brother Balthazar was the one who dragged me out to the bar, but I’m glad he did ‘cause otherwise I would’ve come back home, and been an emotional wreck.”

“I’m not telling you how to live your life but are you sure that you’re dealing with this?”

Cas rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know. I just went for a drink with my brother and had a good time with a guy that I met. I suppose I shouldn’t have made out with him. How was your day?”                                                        

“Fine.” Dean sounded bitter when he said this.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s… nothing.”

“I can hear by the tone of your voice that you’re upset. What’s the matter?”

“You’re hearing wrong. I am perfectly okay.”

Cas didn’t know why Dean insisted on not telling him what was wrong and acting like he was okay.

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”

*****

Cas was awoken by someone whimpering in pain. It took him a moment to fully wake up and figure out where the distressed noises were coming from. He could hear Dean thrashing in his bed. He heard Dean muttering but he couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“Dean? Are you okay?” Cas asked, knocking lightly on the wall.

He heard Dean gasp for breath.

“Dean?”

“I’m fine. Sorry to wake you.”

“It’s okay. Sounded like you were getting murdered or something. Had me worried there.”

“I’m fine.”

“You know what? I’m not even going to push you for information.”

“Good.”

“Goodnight Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are still enjoying the story. Comment below on what you thought, we love feedback and hope you love the story as much as we love writing it.


	5. Dean

Dean got up and stretched out his limbs, trying to work out the stiffness of the night. In the moments in between being asleep and being fully awake, he almost forgot the night before. Just as he was about to head to the bar to meet Eric, Viv, and Stacy he got a call from his father. Really he knew it was ridiculous, but talking to his dad, no, not his dad, John still triggered something in him. Every time he heard his voice images of screaming and drunken fights washup to the forefront of his mind.

The conversation had been short, although that was Dean’s fault. John had said that he had something to tell him and dean hung up. He didn’t want to talk to him, not after what he had done to his mother. Still, Dean was a little curious about what John had wanted to say.

He tried to shake off the thoughts as he got ready for the day and drove to work but after all these years John still had a hold on him. As he rolled up to the shop Dean hoped that he could keep his mind off the whole subject and just focus on fixing up some cars. He had always loved his job because it was so straightforward. Find the problem, get the correct tools and parts, and fix it. Nothing couldn’t be fixed if you had enough patience and knowledge. Just as he was getting to work on the engine of a Honda S2000, he heard a whining voice behind him.

“Dean,” it said, drawing out the 'e' for way too long. “Whatcha working on.”

Dean sighed. It was Frankie and she was early. Again.

“Just replacing the timing belt.” He thought that maybe just this once she would take the hint and leave him alone. No such luck.

“Wow, you should show me how to do that. I’m sick of doing all the easy jobs like changing the oil”

“Someone has to do it.”

“Come on Dean, I’ll be a better employee for it.”

Dean tried not to roll his eyes. She wasn’t going to let this go. “Fine, come here.”

He proceeded to show her all the steps involved while she doled out empty compliments and kept “accidentally” pressing against him and shoving her cleavage in his face. After he had finished he wiped his hands on a nearby rag before throwing it on the ground.

“Well, I’m going to go ahead and open up.”

Just after he unlocked the door and headed back to see what repairs they had for that day Brian walked in. Dean looked up from his clipboard. “You’re late.”

“Sorry boss, traffic you know.”

“Every day? Maybe you should just leave earlier.”

“Sounds like a great suggestion.”

Dean shook his head. He knew Brian would be late again tomorrow. “You know, Frankie came in early today.” The good old manager trick of pitting employees against each other.

“Well, I don’t have a crush on you do I?” Brian retorted.

Dean saw Frankie go bright red. He could barely keep from laughing. “Here’s your list for today.” He had purposefully put some of the more tedious tasks on there. Brian sighed but didn’t argue. Even though their dynamic was pretty casual as far as manager-employee relationships go, Dean was still the one signing his check at the end of the month.

He retreated back to his desk to battle the ever-growing mountain of paperwork on his desk.

 

**********

 

A couple of hours before closing Dean heard the door to his office open. He looked to find Eric standing in the doorway.

“Dude, why are you here?”

Eric shrugged and stepped the rest of the way in, closing the door behind him. “I don’t know, the store is having the floors redone so I have a few days off. I thought it would be great but I’m really bored so I decided to stop by and bug you.” He flopped down in the small chair in front of Dean’s desk and started playing with the mini pool table.

“Is that what you do all day? Seems pretty boring.”

Dean looked up from the order form he was trying to figure out how to fill out. “I try not to, but this is the glamorous life of a business owner.”

“Dude, you need to loosen up and have some fun.”

“I know what kind of fun you like to have.”

Eric laughed. “It’s not all fun and games my friend, there are dangers too.”

“Like what?”

Eric stared into the distance for a second, thinking. “Well I was making out with this guy Castiel last night and he gave me blue balls, does that count?”

Dean looked up from his papers, suddenly interested. Hadn’t Cas said he met someone last night? Why does Eric have to try to hook up with everyone Dean has a connection to.

“Bro…” Dean said.

“What?”

“That was my neighbor, and you made out with his ex the night before.”

Eric laughed. “Yeah right, and how would you even know that? Do you keep track of everything your neighbor does? Stalker.”

“It's hard to explain.”

“Whatever, why do you care? Do you have a crush on him or something?”

Dean felt his face go red.

“Oh my god, you do. I mean, I can see why though, he’s cute.”

“He is?”

Eric’s face scrunched up in confusion. “I thought you said you were neighbors.”

“We are, but I haven't seen him. It’s complicated.”

“I can tell.”

They sat in an awkward silence for a couple seconds before Dean spoke up. “If you're going to stay here then you're going to have to work.”

That got him to leave.

 

**********

Dean was back home laying on his bed with his headphones trying to distract himself. He was humming the tune to Traveling Riverside Blues. “See my baby, tell her, Tell her hurry home. Had no lovin', since my baby been gone. See my baby, Tell her hurry on home. I ain't had, Lord, my right mind, Since my rider's been gone”

The song stopped and he heard a ring. Another one. He didn’t want to look at his phone, he knew who it could be. Holding his breath, he checked anyway. John. Ring. He shouldn’t answer it. John has been out of his life for eight years now, and there was no reason to bring him back in. Ring. Maybe he should answer, just to see what he has to say. It can’t hurt, and if something happens he can just end their relationship again. Ring.

Dean answers.

For a second he doesn’t speak.

“Hello. Hello? Are you there Dean?”

Hearing his own name on John’s tongue again seemed to wake him up.

“Yeah.”

He heard a sigh of relief from the other end.

“Listen, I know you probably don’t want to talk to me. Hell, you probably don’t even want to look at me, but I want to start over. I’ve changed. I stopped drinking six years ago, I’ve been going to AA, and I’m not going to lie, it’s hard sometimes, but I’m trying. You’re my son, I know I may have burned this bridge, but I would like to have you back in my life.”

Dean was stunned, he wasn’t sure what he had expected but it wasn’t that. John had put him through a lot. He had done awful things, could Dean really let that back into his life? On the other hand, John seemed sincere, he seemed sorry. Maybe he had gotten better as the years went on, perhaps he really did change.

“Dean? You still with me buddy?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“So what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that we should have lunch. There’s this place close to where I work, it’s called The Sunrise Diner.”

“Okay, you want to meet tomorrow?”

“No, I’m working tomorrow, We can do it the day after.”

“That would be perfect.”

There was a short silence.

“Bye John.”

“Goodbye Son.”

 

**********

 

After a few hours of pacing around the apartment with his music back on near deafening volumes, Dean was starting to feel trapped inside himself. Everything was a swirl of his own mixed thoughts and emotions. He was relieved when he heard Cas’ door shut, maybe talking to someone will keep him from feeling like he’s going crazy.

Dean settled himself on the bed and knocked three times on the wall.

“Cas?”

He heard some shuffling and knocking around before there was a response.

“Yeah, I’m here. What’s up?”

“It’s just been a crazy day. How are you?”

“I did a ton of paperwork and boring stuff. I’m thinking of hiring someone to help advertise and run the shop. I’ve got no idea how I’m going to afford to pay them though. Oh and I don’t think I’m going to try and get in contact with the guy I met at the bar because, for one, I didn’t get his phone number and two, he seemed to be into some serious weird kinky stuff.”

Dean did a half chuckle, wondering what the hell Cas was talking about. It was probably best not to know anyway.

“Well, we all have those one time things. Just don’t talk to him again.”

“My brother Balthazar interrupted us before anything could really turn into a one-time thing. I kinda can’t talk to him again since I don’t have a way to contact him. I’m worried about ever going to the bar with Balthazar again and getting horrible sexual pickup lines thrown at me. I’m starting to think I must be really ugly because only guys with really bad pickup lines try to hook up with me or complete and total assholes like Jorge.”

“I’m sure you look just fine. I mean, you must have fallen from heaven because you sound like an angel.”

“Very funny Dean. You must’ve fallen from heaven too ’cause you sound like you landed on your face.”

“Ooh, ice cold Cas.”

“Wrong it was hot. Do you need some ointment for that burn?”

“Maybe just a little.”

“No, but really why can’t I run into a decent guy at a bar that doesn’t spout cheese ball lines? They don’t even buy me drinks. I guess my angelic voice doesn’t attract men I’d actually want to date, but then there’s Balthazar who isn’t all too good looking getting surrounded by good-looking people. So maybe it’s my personality.”

“Your personality is great. Trust me, that isn’t the problem.”

“Uh huh. I’m sure you don’t run into these issues.”

“No, I really don’t. Honestly, though I would trade that problem for most of mine any day.”

“What problems do you got?”

“My dad called me today.”

“I need more details on that. What’s wrong with your dad?”

“Well, that was the first time we’ve talked in eight years if that gives you any indication.”

“Oh jeez, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.”

“He must’ve really fucked up.”

“That’s the understatement of the century. His fuck up ended up landing me in government care.”

“Fuck man. What parent does that to their kid?”

“One who wasn’t in his right mind.”

“Clearly. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Everyone has their shit they need to deal with, I guess this is just mine.”

“True. What’d he call you for?”

“He wanted to make amends. We’re meeting for lunch in a couple days, we’ll see how it goes.”

“I hope that goes well for you.”

“Same.”

There was a long pause.

“Well, goodnight Cas.”

“Goodnight Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy fourth of July! Hope this chapter adds to the celebration. If you like it, please comment. Tell us what you think.


	6. Cas

The sunlight was starting to filter through the window shades when Cas’ alarm clock went off.

“Ugh,” Castiel grumbled, rolling over to his left side and his right hand fumbling for the annoying noise maker. He managed to turn it off. The digital screen displayed that it was 7:35 o’clock. Cas had to be at his shop by 8:30 in the morning to prepare to open the place at 9:00. Sluggishly, Cas got off his bed and made his way to the too tiny bathroom, taking off his clothes and leaving them in a pile on the tiled floor when he was in the bathroom. He drew back the dark blue shower curtain, not noticing anything out of the ordinary and turned the hot water knob to the left. Once the water was at the temperature that Cas liked it to be at (Lukewarm), Cas stepped into the tub and drew the curtain closed. That’s when he saw it. The long-legged big brown spider that was crawling along the curtain. Cas’ shoulder was inches away from the creature. Cas could see the short hairs on its body. 

There was a second where Cas was paralyzed with fear. He couldn’t seem to move his legs but could only stare at his greatest fear. The second passed and Cas bolted from the bathtub. He didn’t know how he was able to flee so quickly and not trip over the side of the tub, but he was thankful that he hadn’t tripped and injured himself. It’d be pretty embarrassing to go to a doctor about a head wound or a twisted ankle and explain that he’d been trying to run from a spider. 

Cas stopped and stood at the threshold, wrapping his arms around himself. Seeing the creepy thing crawl around to the other side of the curtain. It seemed to stare back at Castiel. Cas let out a small frightened whimper. He couldn’t control the sound but managed to think of ways to kill the spider. Each plan involved him getting up close and personal, and Cas didn’t even like being a pole’s length away from it. 

The spider started to scurry back to the opposite side of the curtain. Cas gathered his courage, reaching for some toilet paper. He intended to pick up the spider using the paper and flush it down the toilet. He took two shaky steps forward, was getting ready to take the third step when the spider abruptly stopped its movements and jumped. Cas could almost see it happening in slow motion, the spider spreading out its legs as it flew in mid-air coming towards Castiel’s general direction. Cas let out a high pitched blood-curdling scream. He wasn’t even aware that he’d opened his mouth to scream, but all his terror and fright that had been building up in his chest erupted from his mouth. Tearing through his throat as if he was about to be murdered. The brown spider landed in the sink, immediately beginning to scurry around agitatedly as if it were annoyed from Cas’ scream. 

The showerhead continued to pour down water, the steam rising and making the mirror over the sink foggy. Cas could barely see his face etched with terror in the reflection. His light blue eyes had gone wide, seemingly to have gotten bigger. Still, Cas couldn’t come up with another plan to kill the damn thing. It could fucking jump! The thought racing through his mind on a loop. Cas ran away from the room as quickly as he could. Racing for his kitchen to get a glass of water. New plan, use the cup full of water to flood him down the drain. The thought made sense to Cas in his frantic state. When he ran back to the bathroom, he could see the tips of the long furry legs creeping up and over the side of the sink.

“Oh no you don’t fucker,” Cas said, drawing close enough to see the whole body of the spider. Fully pleased with the idea of killing the thing. Cas tipped the glass over, letting the liquid flow down, watching it land on the frightening looking creature. For almost a moment everything seemed to be okay. The spider was being pulled towards the drain by the force of the water. It was halfway down the drain and Cas was about to let out a sigh of relief when another scream tore its way from his throat. The spider managed to crawl back out using its long legs, crawling hurriedly back to the side of the basin. Once more trying to get out of the sink. This time it succeeded. Cas watched dismayed and terrified as it crawled down the side of the sink cabinet that was closest to the tub, disappearing from sight. The water was still pouring down from the showerhead, filling the whole bathroom with steam. Cas would have to go near the same spot that the spider had just disappeared from to turn off the stream. His body tensed at the thought.  

Cas became aware of the fact that he was still naked, as he trembled with fear all because of a damn spider.

“I hope Dean didn’t hear this,” Cas muttered. He’d have to turn off the water eventually but he had lost his bravery when the spider had jumped from the curtain. Cas flicked the bathroom light switch so the lights turned off and made his way to his dresser. His steps were clumsy as every small shadowy movement made him jump nervously. He dressed in a white cotton button up shirt and dark blue jeans. He almost fell over when a lock of his hair tickled his temple. A sound that a small animal caught in a trap would’ve made escaped from him. He was putting on his shoes when he heard Dean’s voice.

“Did you die?”

Cas felt himself blush.

“No. Why?” Cas replied, trying to act as if nothing had happened. His voice came out sounding too high.

“I heard a woman screaming.”

“That uh…. that was me, Dean.” 

Cas heard Dean laugh in response. It made him flush with embarrassment, but he felt a bit insulted.

“It was a damn spider!” Cas blurted out. Thinking that saying this would justify why he’d screamed.

Cas could hear Dean laugh even harder. A full belly laugh that’d hurt your stomach.

“It’s not funny,” Cas grumbled. 

“I beg to differ.”

“How so? I fail to see the humor in all of this.”

“You’re scared of a little spider? What’s it going to do, eat you?”

Cas’ jaw dropped. Little spider? Little spider?!

“It was fucking huge! A demon spider. It had long legs and a big round brown body. It jumped at me!”

“Oh no! You could have died.” 

“Okay listen here ass hat. It could’ve been venomous! I have no idea what the hell kinda spawn of satan creature this was. It literally had the anti-christ symbol on its back or something like it. The damn thing wouldn’t die. It crawled right back out of the drain. I’d like to see you react to a fuckin’ big ass mother fucking spider jumping at you and try to act like it was no big deal.”

“Whoa, dude didn’t know I would upset you so much.”

Cas was still shaking but he felt a little guilty snapping at Dean.

“It’s not you man. I have a major intense fear of spiders and usually, I don’t freak out like this but I obviously cannot handle huge ass jumping spiders that crawl along my shower curtain. I mean, I was in the shower about to wash my hair when it suddenly made its appearance. It caught me when I most vulnerable, the evil thing.” Cas said the last part kind of jokingly but he was still shaken up about what had happened.

He heard Dean laugh again. 

“It’s still not any more humorous, Dean.”

“You’re right, it isn’t humorous, it’s fucking hysterical.”

Cas felt majorly insulted. He might as well have called Balthazar if he wanted to mocked and made fun of.

“Whatever. I’ve gotta get going to work, laughing boy.” Cas finished tying his shoes just as he remembered that his water was still on in the bathroom.

“Have fun.”

“Uh huh. I’m having such fun right now with you laughing at me.” Cas is still debating on how he’s going to turn off the water. He didn’t want to go near the bathroom or the shower curtain.

“Oh Cas, I’m only teasing you.”

“Really? I thought this was how you show that you were concerned. I left the water on in my bathroom and I don’t know how I’m even going to be able to go back in there.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“No. I can take care of it myself. It would be funny to see how’d you’d react though if the spider jumped at you. Maybe another time, Dean.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Yeah. I’m sure,” Said Cas.  Leaving to go to his bathroom with not even an inch of courage, but he had to go open his shop. He flicked on the light to see that nothing had changed. The spider had gone away but to where? Cas thought it was still in there waiting to attack again. He thought of his broom and quickly went into the kitchen to get it before going back into the bathroom. He cautiously drew back the curtain using the handle side. No spider sprung at him, but Cas wasn’t about to use his hands to turn back the knobs. That’d require him to lean down close to the curtain and be too close to where he’d last seen the spider. Instead, Castiel used his right foot to turn the hot and cold knob to the left. Effectively turning off the water. Cas Made sure to turn off the light before he quickly left the room. He grabbed his jacket and headed for his front door.

“Goodbye, Dean. Sorry for the rude awakening this morning.”

“It’s fine, I was already up.”

Cas highly doubted that to be true.

“Sure. Awoken by a woman’s scream.”

“It’s fine Cas, have a good day.”

“You too, Dean.” Cas left his apartment and headed for the elevators. He figured that besides the spider incident, today was going to be a typical boring work day.

********

“For the last time Balthazar, I am not a woman trapped in a man’s body.” Cas was beyond frustrated with his older brother.

“But Cas, you screamed at a spider. Even woke up your neighbor because of your girly scream.”

Cas glared at his brother. He’d come to visit him at the shop and Cas had decided to tell him the event from the last morning. That decision was a very bad mistake.

“I don’t need this abuse from you. Dean already mocked me.”

Balthazar raised his eyebrows. A suggestive grin appears on his face.

“Who’s Dean? Why do you care so much about what he thinks of you?”

Cas feels his face start to heat up. 

“Dean’s my neighbor and I don’t care what he thinks about me, Balthazar. I just don’t like to be teased.”

Balthazar smirked.

“Sure. That’s why your face is turning the same shade as those roses. Why are you getting defensive about it? Are you worried about making yourself look stupid in front of him? ‘Cause you’ve already done that little brother.”

Cas huffs loudly. He didn’t want to discuss Dean or think too much about whatever feelings he had for him. If there were any feelings at all. Which there weren’t any.

“I’m getting defensive about it because you seem to think that I like him or something. He’s just my neighbor and sometimes we talk to each other. That’s it. No gushy details or warm romantic feelings.”

Balthazar rolled his eyes while chuckling. 

“Really? I think you like him. I think you like him a lot but you refuse to admit it and please tell me he’s at least more good looking than Jorge.”

Cas’ mind froze for a second. How was he going to explain this weird communication thing that he had with Dean?

“I don’t know what he looks like.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You said you talked with him. Do you have to shut your eyes so you won’t get all flustered around him or something?” Balthazar teased.

“No. The apartment walls are pretty thin and one night we just started talking through the walls.” Even to Cas, his words sounded crazy.

Balthazar blinked, staring hard at Castiel for awhile. Waiting for Cas to give him the punchline to this joke. When Cas didn’t say anything else, Balthazar realized how crazy his little brother had become.

“You talk to him….through the walls? How the fuck do you know that he’s not some fat sleazy psycho next door planning to kill you?”

Cas hesitated. He felt an urge to defend Dean.

“I don’t know. He doesn’t sound like a sleazy murderous psycho.”

“Oh yeah, because you can totally tell when someone is a serial killer planning to murder you just by the sound of their voice coming from the other side of the wall.”

   Cas runs his fingers through his hair. Letting out an irritated sigh.

   “Stop acting like you’re my mother.”

   “Someone has to be the voice of reason here. It’s dangerous Cas. I don’t want to deal with another funeral because you think this random neighbor guy is nice and friendly. Can’t you be normal and just be attracted to some other guy’s voice who you’ve met face to face?”

   Cas scrunched up his nose with distaste. He didn’t enjoy having Balthazar talk to him as if he was some naive child.

“There’s nothing to worry about and I am not attracted to his voice.”

“Just be careful. Obviously, you’re going to do whatever you want but I don’t want to lose another brother. Don’t hesitate to call me if you feel in danger there.”

Cas smiled up at him before hugging Balthazar tightly. For a few seconds, his brother let him hug him. Balthazar made an attempt to hug him back, but Cas knew his brother wasn't the affectionate type. Castiel felt his brother step back, his hand patting him once on the back.

“I won’t be able to stand it if you hook up with another ugly dude. You’re too good for the likes of Jorge and the guy at the bar,” Said Balthazar.

“You mean Eric? He wasn’t too bad.”

Balthazar laughed loudly.

“I suppose but compared to a toad well I’d kiss the toad.”

Cas shook his head and pointed towards the door.

“You can leave now. I’ve seen some of the guys you’ve hooked up with and I could find better-looking people living next to a dumpster,” said Castiel. Grinning up at his brother.

He watched as Balthazar flipped him the bird and leave the shop. Cas had enough of being teased today but at least Balthazar made the day a little less boring. He couldn’t help thinking back to Balthazar’s words about how he seemed to have feelings for Dean. That couldn’t be right. He’d just gotten out of a bad relationship. The last thing Cas wanted was to jump into another relationship with a guy he’d never seen. Maybe this wasn’t healthy for Cas, but the thought of not talking to Dean ever again made him strangely sad. Perhaps Balthazar had a small point, but Cas didn’t care. He’d still talk to Dean, Castiel would just have to learn to ignore his brother’s teasing.

********

Cas came back home later than he normally did because Balthazar had come back just after Cas had finished locking up the shop. His brother had wanted him to meet a guy named Crowley.  Telling Castiel that the guy was fun to hang out with. Cas had gone with him but he hadn't been impressed by Crowley. He seemed to be more interested in Balthazar than anything and also seemed to be a bit of a gold digger since all he talked about was money. The guy had even gone on about not marrying anyone who was poor, but Crowley himself was a fat man who was the kind of person you’d find sleeping outside of a bar.

Cas flopped down onto his pulled out bed that was still terribly messy. Yawning loudly, stretching out his body. Hearing his back muscles crack and pop as he took off his shoes, laid back down and closed his eyes. Some part of him was still upset at Balthazar’s somewhat invasive interest in Cas’ personal life. He guessed that if he had heard someone else tell the same story but not be in the situation, that it’d sound pretty crazy to him too. Cas decided to put on some music, choosing one of his favorite Elvis albums. It was the Blue Hawaii album. The song, Can’t Help Falling In Love began softly playing. Cas started singing along quietly. A few seconds into the first verse, Castiel heard the soft tappings on the wall.

“Oh hello, Dean.”

“You have a nice voice.”

Cas’ heart seemed to jump up in his chest. 

“Thanks. Why are you listening to me sing?”

“The walls are kind of thin, remember?”

“Well, I was trying to sing quietly. Do you like the song at least?”

“I can always dig Elvis.” 

Cas smiled. 

“I’m glad to have finally met someone that can appreciate this kind of music.”

“I’m glad to have a neighbor with decent musical taste.”

Balthazar’s earlier words rang in Castiel’s head. Could Dean be some crazy killer that was trying to get close to him just so that he could murder him?

“Yep. People like me are difficult to come by.”

“No kidding.”

“But people like you are even harder to come by. Not anyone would’ve been nice enough to sit and listen to my bullshit or ask why I was even crying, to begin with.”

“Anyone who wanted a decent night’s sleep would.”

Cas shook his head. So much for having feelings for him. Cas supposed that he’d be better off not getting too attached if he wanted to avoid getting hurt.

“Yeah. Guess anyone would say anything to get a crying person to shut up.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“How did you mean it to sound Dean?”

“I just-fuck-nevermind. I’m not good with words.”

Cas stared up at his ceiling. He’d overreacted but didn’t know why. No, that was a lie but there was no reason for Dean having to deal with his bitchiness. Cas kinda liked Dean but was scared of getting ditched or fucked over again.

“No, I completely understand. It’s okay Dean.”

“You sure?”

“Sure I’m sure. It’s no big deal. Sometimes words come out wrong.” Cas was more talking to himself than anything. He felt conflicted, he knew that he tended to be too overly sensitive. Even to him, his voice sounded off. Like it was on autopilot. 

“I’m glad you understand. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“Nope, I’m okay. Trust me. Goodnight Dean.”

“Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact about that spider scene, it actually happened to me and that experience led to the inspiration of this chapter. Hope you guys had as much fun reading this chapter as I had writing it. Please comment/like if you enjoyed this.


	7. Dean

Dean once again found himself pacing around the apartment waiting for noon. He had put on some Queen and was syncing his footsteps to the beat to pass the time. The last thing he should be doing is overthinking the situation. Eight years. Eight years. Screaming. Broken bottles. A wrecked ‘67 Impala. His mother crying in the bathroom while Sam tried to cheer her up. He was always the one who was good with words.

He wondered what John was doing right now. Was he this nervous? Was he pacing? Did he feel his stomach doing somersaults at the prospect of lunch?

John didn’t deserve to have this much control over Dean’s emotions. He needed to get his feelings out. Dean walked over to his phone and turned off the music. For the first time in a couple years, Dean picked up his guitar. It was horribly out of tune and he needed to replace three of the strings before he could get a decent sound out of it. At this point, it was almost time to leave anyway but he still tried to play a bit before he left. He wracked his brain for a simple song that he could remember the chords to. Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door. “Mama, put my guns in the ground, I can't shoot them anymore, that long black cloud is comin' down, I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door.”

By the time he had finished the song the tips of his fingers had began to sting, but he didn’t mind. It felt good to have a guitar back in his hands. Finally, his mind drifted away from John and toward other things. 

 

**********

 

The clock on the wall showed that it was 12:00 but Dean was still fiddling with his phone clicking in and out of various apps. He had wanted to leave fifteen minutes ago, but he also wanted to show John that he didn’t care enough to even show up on time, despite the fact that in reality, he was sitting here glancing at the clock every two seconds and urging the hands to move faster. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. Dean stood up and started racing down the stairs. After flying down two flights of stairs he reached a “danger do not enter” sign. After briefly wondering how someone broke the stairs Dean made his way to the elevator which would be painstakingly slow. 

Eventually, the light above the elevator lit up and there was a soft ding. Dean cringed when he saw there was someone else in there. He was convinced that elevators were made as torture chambers meant to make you feel so awkward that you die. After the doors closed Dean stood slightly behind the guy. He kept trying to steal glances at his face. The guy was damn attractive, that’s for sure. He had a well-defined jawline and electric blue eyes with softly tousled black hair though he was dressed a bit… well, nerdy. He had on a pair of Nike running shoes, a pair of faded tight-fitting jeans, and a blue-green knit sweatshirt which accented his eyes. Though the outfit didn’t exactly match well, Dean didn’t mind the tight jeans which revealed the curvature of a rather fine ass.

Dean was about to ask for the guy’s number, or start some small talk, or  _ something _ when the elevator doors opened and the guy bolted for the doors before Dean could even open his mouth. Weird. 

 

**********

 

It was seventeen after when he arrived. A perky looking waitress came up and politely asked if he needed to be seated.

“No, I’m meeting someone here.”

It took him a few seconds and a double take to recognize John. The lines in his face sat heavier and his shoulders sagged a little lower than Dean remembered. Despite the obvious aging, he still looked better than the last time Dean had seen him when he was screaming and throwing random objects with little accuracy. His hair was combed and even, his face cleanly shaved, and he was wearing a loose button up plaid shirt. Dean scooted into the booth on the seat across from him. 

“So,” John started, “what have you been up to since…”

Dean imagined the ways he would have finished the sentence. Since you left because I killed all the family that mattered to you. Since you pushed me out of your life. Since you lost the end of your childhood because you couldn’t have been given a fucking decent father.  

“Got a job, worked my way up. I own an auto shop now so I’m doing just fine.” He spat the last few words with all the saltiness of McDonald’s fries. John sat back and dropped his gaze to the menu before replying. “I’m glad to hear that. I wish I would have been there, and your mother would be so proud.”

Dean’s head snapped up at that. “You don’t get to talk about her. Ever. You lost that privilege a long time ago.” He expected John to get angry, to yell back or something but instead, he just shook his head slowly not even raising his gaze. Dean almost felt bad about being angry at someone who seemed so dejected. Almost. 

During the tense silence that elapsed they placed their order. Dean just wanted the meal to be over with as fast as possible. John was the one who eventually broke the silence. “So there’s a reason I wanted to talk to you. I mean, besides just wanting to see you again, which I do, I just.” John sighed heavily and shook his head. He reached for his wallet and opened a small picture that was folded in half. He handed it to Dean. The picture showed a little boy about five playing with a toy truck in the grass. Dean’s face relaxed as he realized what the picture could mean. 

“Who.”

“Your brother. Baby mama ditched out, I’m trying to raise him right. I named him Sam, you know, in honor of him.”

“You named him Sam. As in Samuel, as in my other brother that you killed and you thought that was a good idea. This doesn’t bring him back any more than your guilt or your fucking apologies.”

“Actually it’s Sam as in Samson.”

“What?”

“Samson, that’s his name.”

Dean thanked the waitress as she set down a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. He pushed the egg around with his fork and stabbed the yoke, watching the yellow insides leak onto the rest of his plate. He wasn’t hungry anymore anyway. 

“You win. I’m back in your life, but I’m not here for you. The kid’s going to need a decent role model, and he doesn't need to grow up missing his brother and his mom, I would know what that feels like.”

John set his jaw and looked out the window. 

“Listen, I know I can’t fix what happened in the past. I was a mess, I was a terrible person, I understand that. I just wanted to make sure that I at least tried to make amends for the past. I’m willing to have whatever kind of relationship I can salvage.”

Dean stabbed a piece of toast with his fork. He felt sick to his stomach.

“Yeah, whatever.”

John sat perfectly still while Dean refused to make eye contact with him. Eventually, he picked up his coat and stood up.

“I have to go. I’ll pay for the meal on the way out.”

It’s fine. He could leave. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. 

**********

Dean had spent the rest of the day wandering mindlessly around town. He popped briefly over to the auto shop to try to tackle part of the mountains of paperwork piling up on his desk but his focus always seemed to shift. He had a little brother. Little Sam. His little brother Sam. Sammy. Samson. 

He kept repeating the phrases but they didn’t feel real, they were words without concrete meaning.  

When he got home it was late, ten or eleven but he didn’t care enough to actually check. All he could think to do was to pick up his guitar and start strumming. 

“I am a rock, I am an Island, I’ve built walls, a fortress deep and mighty, that none may ever penetrate.” 

Dean heard some talking from the other side of the wall and a light knock. He didn’t care. After a couple seconds, there was a consistent pounding on the wall so loud that Dean thought it might wake the neighbors. 

“What!?”

“Your loud ass woke me up!”

Dean wrinkled his forehead in confusion. That was not Cas. Oh shit, what if that was someone he had hooked up with? Fuck fuck fuck, retreat, retreat.

“Sorry, I’ll shut up now.”

“Wait are you Dean!?”

The fuck? Did Cas talk about him during their hook up? Now some random ass guy on the other side of the wall was asking him personal questions, which is exactly what happened with Cas but that was different.

“Yeah…” 

He didn’t want to give this guy any more information than necessary. Something about his tone sounded almost angry, but not because of the noise, angry like it was personal. 

“So you’re the one talking to Cassie through the walls.”

“Dude, I don’t know you.”

“You didn’t know my brother but you still talked to him through the damn walls.”

“He’s not a child, he can talk to who he wants.” Dean paused for a second and widened his eyes in terror. “Wait, he’s  _ not _ a child is he?”

“How fucking old do you think my little brother is?”

Dean felt the blood drain from his face. Was he a pedophile? What the fuck was happening? No, Cas had said he was 25, right? 

“Twenty-five?” 

“Yes, but why the fuck are you talking to him through the walls like a damn creeper? Only fucking psychos do that in bad horror movies. How fucking old are  _ you _ ?” 

Dean was being attacked by an angry wall-voice overprotective brother. How had it come to this? Maybe if he stayed quiet the guy would think he left.

“Cas I’m not doing anything!”

Dean decided to take the opportunity to call for reinforcements. 

“Cas! Your brother has been yelling at me for about three minutes straight now.”

“Balthazar! I fucking told you to leave Dean alone! Get the hell away from the wall right now! I’m sorry Dean.”

“It’s fine I guess.”

“You’re still a fucking creep! Do you know how old he is Cas? He could be in his fifties for crying out loud!”

Dean frowned, “Twenty-five for your information, asshole.”

“Like I’m going to believe a voice from behind a wall. I’m not like Cassie who’s too naive to believe any of this isn’t creepy or that you’re not a psycho.”

“Balthazar that’s enough! Get out of my apartment. Don’t fucking break anything on your way down to the taxi.” 

Dean heard a door slam and a considerable amount of curse words in the hall before it was silent again.

“So, it was nice to meet your family.”

“He’s such an idiot. A real asshole, but believe it or not, he’s the nice one.”

“There won’t be any more surprise ambushes then will there?”

“Certainly not. He had to stay over the night before because he got super drunk and stoned and just ugh. He’s incredibly frustrating.”

“It’s fine, at least he cares.”

“No, he’s just an annoying older sibling is what he is. Always sticking his nose into my personal life and making a mess of things."

“Is that really how you feel about your siblings? Would you rather them stay out of your life?”

“...No. Balthazar stirs up a lot of trouble. Sometimes, I get tired of cleaning up the damage that’s left behind his many escapades.” 

“So… you’ve been telling people about me.” Dean tried to sound nonchalant yet flirty but instead, he ended up sounding like a flirty teenage girl. 

“Who says I’ve been talking about you?”

“Well, Balthazar certainly seemed to know who I am.”

“Balthazar says a lot of things. That doesn’t mean I talked about you around him.” 

“Well he said, and I quote, ‘So you’re the one talking to Cassie through the walls.’ It sounds like he was well informed to me.”

“So what if I talk about you? Plus I fucking hate that nickname.”

“I just didn’t know I was so noteworthy in the story of your life.” Dean felt himself blush as he looked down towards his shoes. 

“Of course you’re noteworthy! How could you not be? You’re the one that….”

“That… that what?”

“Oh wow, look at the time. I should be heading down to the flower shop.”

“At this time?”

“Um….Well….I suppose not. What time is it anyway?” 

“Time for you to answer my question. The one that what?”

“You honestly don’t know? It’s a bit obvious isn’t it?”

“Pretend I’m blind and brain damaged.”

“I would still lo- I would still care for you even if you were blind and brain damaged. You’ve become a very good friend to me, Dean. That’s what I was going to say. You’re the one that pulled me back out of a dark place.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he heard every siren in his head go off. He was not ready for this, whatever  _ this _ even was. He felt his breath catch in his throat and his stomach turned. He can’t be close to someone, he didn’t know how. 

“Dean? You alright?” 

Dean panicked and grabbed his coat. Before he knew it he was in his car and halfway out of the parking lot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter :) I know it's been a while since the last update, however, I do hope this chapter was was worth the wait. Please comment below and let us know what your thoughts are on this latest chapter or hit that kudos button. Thank you so much for reading!


	8. Cas (earlier that day....)

“Damn it, Balthazar, you did not just break the fucking stairs,” Cas grumbled. He looked down at his brother sprawled out on a flight of stairs. One foot had gone through a water damaged step. His head had crashed nearly through another step. 

“It's not my fault your apartment complex is so shitty.” Balthazar’s response was muffled by the linoleum steps. 

Cas shook his head, not wanting to deal with this. Balthazar had called him around 2:30 in the morning, demanding that he come down to help him up the stairs. Cas hadn't understood what his brother’s problem was until he came down to witness Balthazar’s idiocy first hand. What Castiel couldn't figure out was how Balthazar had completely broken the damn stairs by falling on them. 

“How’d you even fall anyway? Better yet how is it that your foot managed to go through one of the steps?” A bit of mirth coloring Cas’ response. 

“I don't fucking know, okay? I just tripped over my own feet and fell. Are you going to help me up or not?” Balthazar said in a snippy tone. Lifting his head to glare up at his younger brother.

“Why are you even here? You broke the fucking stairs and then you call me up at two in the morning because your stupid ass couldn't walk properly.” Cas had never been a morning person. Not to mention he’d been having a very pleasant dream before he’d been rudely awakened by his obnoxious brother. 

“I'm here because I wanted to get a look at that guy you’re talking with. Now stop bitching at me and help me up.” He reached out a hand towards Cas but was met with indifference. 

“It's two in the fucking the morning!” Cas half shouted. Filled with impatience. He was tempted to leave him on the steps and go back to bed.

“It is?” 

Cas took a good look at his brother's face, seeing the way his eyes were heavily dilated. Either he was incredibly stoned or drunk. Knowing Balthazar, he could've been both. 

“Yes. What were you even going to do anyway? Stalk the hallways? Be a creeper and stand outside different doors?” Cas took his brother's hand. Struggling to help him stagger up to his feet. Balthazar nearly dragged Cas down to the floor as he leaned heavily against Castiel’s body. 

“Maybe I'll just talk through the walls and whoever replies is the psycho you’re talking to,” Balthazar said starting to laugh. Clinging to Cas for support. Being this close to his brother, Castiel could smell the scent of marijuana on his clothes. 

“I'll drop your ass back on these stairs. I'm in no mood to be teased. Did you drive here?”  
Balthazar went to respond but stopped. A puzzled expression crossing his face then more laughter bubbled out of him.

“I have no idea man. I don't remember how I got here.” Cas could barely understand the garbled words. Balthazar’s body shook with laughter. Cas felt the stirrings of a headache beginning to take shape. 

“Fine. You can sleep in my apartment tonight but I'm not carrying you up these stairs.” He went to try to take a step down, but his foot caught on the crumpled step that Balthazar had destroyed. Face planting onto the wooden floor. A heavyweight crashing down onto him seconds before he could even manage to make a sound. 

“Guess I'm not the only dumbass that can't walk properly.” 

“Shut the hell up Balthazar. Can you get your fat ass off of me? You're crushing my spine.” Cas wiggled underneath his brother. Struggling to even move an inch.

“Aw come on Cassie, stop being a sourpuss,” Said Balthazar. Not even attempting to move off his brother. 

“Don't call me that! You're so fucking annoying. I'm trying to help you but I swear I will leave you down here.” Cas managed to get his arms out in front of him. Regretting the lack of muscle but hopefully, he could at least escape because now he really was starting to feel like he was being crushed by Balthazar. 

“Don't be like that Cassie,” Said Balthazar, before continuing on after Castiel managed to glare up at his buffoon of a brother. “Alright I'll stop teasing you, but you have to point out which apartment your creepy crush lives in.”

Castiel would’ve punched his brother in the face if he’d had the ability to move his arms. Balthazar knew he had him pinned down. His grin widened with pure amusement. Cas wanted to wipe the smile off of his face but alas he couldn’t. 

“Get the fuck off me, right now.”

“Only if you promise me that you’ll show me which room he lives in.”

“Why does it matter to you?” Cas didn’t like Balthazar’s interest in Dean. He wished that Balthazar would leave the whole situation alone. 

“It matters to me because that guy could be some scary ass psychopath.” 

“But he’s not. Stop talking about Dean that way.” Cas felt his cheeks grow warm. He didn’t honestly know why he felt such an urge to defend Dean from Balthazar’s insults but what he did know was that he cared a great deal for Dean. He just didn’t know how to place his emotions towards Dean. 

“Does little Cassie have a crush?” Balthazar’s taunting broke through Castiel’s thoughts.

“Shut up! Just get off me and I’ll point out the door to his apartment alright?” 

Balthazar chuckled loudly into Cas’ ear before he slowly staggered his way off of his younger brother. Swaying only a little once he’d gotten to his feet. His hands grabbing for the rusted metal railing behind him, to help steady himself.

“You must have a crush on him! Are you blushing little brother?” 

Castiel felt his whole face flame up. He pushed himself up off the floor and didn’t bother to look to Balthazar for help when he rose up to his feet. Not wasting his time to respond to his brother, who probably wouldn’t even remember this conversation in the morning. Instead, he walked over to the elevator. Hearing Balthazar’s stumbling steps trailing behind him. 

“You know, that little crush of yours would be really cute if it wasn’t for a crazy serial killer.” 

“You wanna sleep down here?!” Cas exclaimed tiredly. Turning quickly around to face Balthazar who wore a broad grin. 

“I might just run into Dean if I did that.” 

“And you would know what he looks like, how?” 

“I would simply start the conversation with, ‘Have any good conversations through the walls lately?’ And see how they would respond. Better yet, I’d sit down here and wait for a pervy fifty-five-year-old to come along.” 

Cas glared up at Balthazar. He knew Dean couldn’t be fifty-five. He also knew that it was better to ignore Balthazar but still the urge to defend Dean kept digging at him. 

“You know that you’re pervier than Dean, right?” Somehow this felt like a justifiable response. It had sounded a lot better in Castiel’s head. 

“How dare you! I don’t talk to my neighbors through my damn walls.”  

Cas shook head, knowing his brother wouldn’t leave him alone about Dean. Part of him didn’t care about what Balthazar thought. The other part of his mind only seemed to care about how Balthazar perceived Dean. Balthazar hadn’t talked to Dean. Didn’t know his character at all, so what right did Balthazar have to judge him? 

Castiel pressed down on the button with the arrow pointing up. The soft glow of the light illuminated off of the outline of the arrow. Balthazar leaned heavily against the wall. Cas swore that if his brother passed out, that he’d leave him down here to sleep off whatever the hell he was on. It didn’t come to that thankfully. They managed to get into the small elevator, and onto the third floor without incident. Balthazar slung his arm around Castiel’s shoulders when they were halfway down the hallway. 

“I love you soooo much Cassie,” Balthazar slurred. Leaning more of his weight onto Castiel’s small frame.

“Sure you do,” Castiel replied tiredly. His main goal was getting Balthazar past Dean’s apartment without waking him up. He couldn’t imagine what Dean would think if he heard or even saw him carrying a half-drunk guy into his apartment. 

“No I really do, Cassie. Why do you like Dean so much?”

“That’s irrelevant,” Said Castiel. Although he could’ve answered with tons of traits that caused him to like Dean. How he played the guitar. The way he sang (Dean really did have a good singing voice). Most of all, Cas loved how caring Dean appeared to be. Regardless, if Dean had only talked to him for the sake of wanting him to stop crying, Cas couldn’t put aside the fact that Dean had gotten him through a very rough time in his life. He had been there for him when no one else(except Balthazar) had bothered to check up on him. 

“Getting pretty defensive. Hey, when are we going to get to your apartment? I wanna take a nap,” Balthazar said, sounding every bit like a small five year old who’d stayed up way past their bedtime. 

“Soon. Don’t you dare pass out on me.” 

Balthazar merely grunted in response. Tripping up on his own two feet. They would’ve fallen had Cas not leaned against the wall. By now, they were only a couple steps away from Castiel’s door. Cas heaved Balthazar upright before he carried on walking. Quickening his pace when he felt his brother beginning to go limp. Cas hurriedly reached inside his pocket to pull out his keys, nearly dropping them, but able to keep them from slipping past his fingers. Getting Balthazar into the room wasn’t as bad as he thought until Balthazar collapsed onto his bed. 

“I’m not sharing my bed with you.” Castiel’s protest fell on deaf ears. His brother’s loud snores were already filling the room. He’d have to sleep on the floor or squish his way onto the bed. The latter of the two seemed more exhausting. He thought of the sleeping bag that he had stuffed away in the tiny hall closet. For one night, it wouldn’t be too terrible to sleep on the floor. Cas glanced over at Balthazar, knowing deep down that he was glad to have his brother here in his room rather than having him driving home in the condition that he was in. 

He got the sleeping bag, made himself as comfortable as possible and fell into an easy sleep. He wouldn’t remember what his dreams contained when he woke up the following morning but thoughts of Dean were ever present.  


********

“I would still lo- I would still care for you even if you were blind and brain damaged. You’ve become a very good friend to me, Dean. That’s what I was going to say. You’re the one that pulled me back out of a dark place,” Cas couldn’t control the words spewing out of his mouth. It wasn’t that he was lying. It was the mere fact that Cas hadn’t meant to make himself so vulnerable. He had only meant to tell Dean that he was a good friend, and fuck, Cas nearly told Dean that he loved him. Cas didn’t know if that bit was true. He’d only just started talking to Dean, and they hadn't even seen each other face to face. But I do care for him, Cas thought. He knew that to be true, but….but what? He sat there in a whirl of emotions, trying desperately to place a finger on what exactly he was feeling and how he felt about Dean. Maybe it's because of how much he's helped me. It's simply gratitude I’m feeling, He worked this thought around in his head. It seemed to fit. It was only natural after all, especially since Dean was the one that had sat down and listened to him. No one had done that. He’d only meant to express his gratefulness. 

Cas began to worry if he'd taken it a step too far. He hadn't meant for his words to come out in a romantic way, and it wasn’t until Dean didn’t respond that a wave of panic washed over him. 

“Dean? You alright?” Cas knew that he had overshared. He feared that he had ruined their friendship. Castiel’s pulse raced as he waited for a reply but all Cas got was the sound of Dean’s door shutting and the quick footsteps of retreat. A brief thought of Dean coming to his door crossed his mind. They’d finally meet. He’d be able to see Dean and he’d….Well, Cas didn’t know what would happen next, but all that meant the most to him was finally getting to meet Dean face to face. Except that didn’t happen. Dean never came to his door. He’d left him. Left him alone in his apartment without even a single word of warning. Cas felt his heart plummet to his stomach. All hope quickly crashing down inside of him. It left him unbearably cold. Tears began to sting his eyes. Cas attempted to hold them back but his mind flashed back to the conversation he’d had with Jorge. His words echoing in his head.

“You’ll come back crawling to me Cas. Eventually, you’ll see that no one else will take in your sorry pathetic ass and you’ll be begging to be with me again.” Tears spilled down his cheeks. A small whimper escaping up his throat. “Eventually you’ll see it all too clearly.” 

“He was right,” Cas gasped out. He’d made himself vulnerable to Dean and he’d left him. Hadn’t wanted to deal with his sorry ass anymore. Cas had known all along that Dean hadn’t truly wanted to be friends with him. That Dean had only talked to him out of obligation and pity, but Cas had hoped that he was wrong. That Dean might’ve felt something for him too. Now he’d run out on him. Castiel wiped the tears away with the back of his hand. His body shaking terribly as if he’d been dunked into the Atlantic ocean. One clear thought passed through his mind. He could go to the bar and drink away his problems. Go to a bar and forcefully make himself forget about Dean.  


********  


He arrived at a bar called Changes an hour after picking himself up off his apartment floor. Cas managed to make himself presentable. He didn't want to make it obvious he’d been crying against a wall. Now as he stood outside the building, he felt some of his courage slip away from him. He might have overreacted. Dean had been so nice to him that it didn’t seem too unlikely for Dean to have reacted the way he did because of something else. Cas thought fleetingly of going back home but he refused to turn around. He was done with being pathetic. Done with crying alone in an empty room. If Dean could ditch him without hesitation then why couldn’t Cas do the same? Why was it so difficult for him to let Dean go? He shook his head, deciding to go ahead with his original plan. With his mindset, he went into the bar. The beat of the bass immediately hit his body. The smell of alcohol overwhelmed him, along with the number of people that were in the building. Amazingly, there was a spot open at the bar. He hurried over to the lone empty bar stool. Ordering a double shot of tequila when the bartender came over. A few seconds later the shot glass was in his hand. Cas downed the drink, wrinkling his nose with distaste towards the bitter harsh taste, but ordered another one anyway.

A few shots later, Castiel’s vision was beginning to get fuzzy. The room swayed whenever he turned his head to scan his surroundings. His heart leaped when he caught sight of a familiar dark-haired man, who was also sitting at the bar. Cas’ attention was captured by the stranger. He’d seen him back at the apartment complex in the elevator. Cas had wanted to talk to him but because of Balthazar, he had been in a hurry to get to the flower shop. He hadn't had time to stop and chat with anyone.  
Cas figured that he could attempt to get his attention and damn near slipping off the stool when he tried to give a slight wave towards the guy. The man grinned in amusement before his attention focused back on the bartender. Castiel cursed under his breath, knowing he’d made an idiot of himself. He thought of going home while he could still walk, but his gaze locked onto the one person he didn’t expect to see. All common sense left him when he got up and walked up to the person. He didn’t wait for them to say anything. His emotions were scrambled but what he craved the most was to have someone love him. To not be left alone in a room tonight. Castiel wrapped his arms around Jorge’s neck, kissing him forcefully. 

For a couple seconds, Jorge was unresponsive before wrapping his arms around Castiel, eagerly kissing him back. The kiss was sloppy but hunger-filled. Desperation passed through Cas as he pressed himself closer to Jorge. Needing to feel wanted.  
Breaking away from the embrace to catch his breath, he whispered into Jorge’s ear, “Take me home.” 

Jorge smirked down at Castiel.  
“I knew you’d come to your senses.” Castiel let himself be lead outside to Jorge’s car. The frigid, chilly air did little to snap Cas out of his drunken haze. He clung to Jorge tightly, due to the fact that his feet refused to walk in a straight line. They made it to Jorge’s faded black Prius. Cas nearly falling to the ground when Jorge removed his arm that had been wrapped around him, to open the passenger car door.

“Stop flailing around Castiel, get in the car.” Cas flinched at the harsh tone but hurried to get into the vehicle. Not wanting to piss off Jorge and have him leave too.  
Jorge shut the door once Cas had gotten into his seat, then went around to the driver’s side.

“Didn't take you long to come back to me. I was right, wasn’t I? See I knew no one else would actually want your whiny ass,” Jorge said in a manner that one would use to discuss the weather. They were now on the road. A couple of cars in front of them, a few more driving slowly in the other lane. 

Cas accepted the humiliation that filled him. Knew that he deserved every insult that was thrown at him. He didn't bother to tell himself differently or refute against Jorge’s words. Of course, even if he had wanted to defend himself, his mind was too muddled to form a good enough defense. He felt grateful that Jorge had even bothered accepting his request. 

They arrived at Jorge’s apartment. Jorge parking the car in the spot that had a faded number four painted on the asphalt. Most of the lights were already out except for the spare few that lit up the sidewalk adjacent to the apartment doors. Castiel could see flecks of black appearing in his vision now. Felt the sensation of being disconnected from his body. He hadn’t seen Jorge get out of the car nor hear him open the passenger’s door but suddenly, Cas was being dragged out of his seat and back into the bitter cold. 

“Come on, don't fuckin’ pass out on me. I didn't sign up to take care of you,” Jorge snipped. Cas struggled to get a hold of his surroundings. His legs felt like jello. He couldn't stop swaying or manage to keep his eyes fully open. 

Jorge let Castiel lean against the hood of the Prius, as he locked up the car. Cas resisted the urge to sleep, even as his eyelids grew unbearably heavy. He felt a bony arm wrap around his upper torso once more. Saw the blurry view of the grey sidewalk under his feet. Cas leaned into Jorge’s side but immediately felt repulsed. Jorge smelt of cheap cigars and beer. The two scents mixed together to make one overwhelming smell that reminded Cas distinctly of spoiled, sour milk. 

“I chungeeed my mieend,” Cas said. Taking great pains to attempt to speak clearly but even to his own ears, the words had come out sounding like gibberish. 

“You what?” Jorge asked before quickly cutting off Castiel. “Doesn't matter. I hope you've learned your lesson. I'm the best you're ever going to have and next time I won’t be so generous in taking you back.”

“I dooun’t want yooou,” Cas slurred. Attempting to push himself away from Jorge, but only managing to stumble back into a wall. Panic was the first strong emotion to break through Cas’ clouded mind. Next was fear when Jorge advanced towards him with a sinister grin on his face. 

“I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that come out of your mouth. Consider yourself lucky and stop being a little bitch about this.”  

As foolish as it was, Cas thought of Dean. Of how stupid he’s been to react this way when Dean had only been a good friend to him up until he abruptly left. That shouldn't have been enough to crush Cas. It wasn't as if Dean had told him to fuck off or to stop being such a nuisance. All Dean had done was leave, but somehow that cut Cas deeper than if Dean had said those other insults to him. To top it off, Cas could push that aside. He could move past the feeling of abandonment. At this moment, Cas wished more than ever that he was back at his shabby apartment. Wished that he hasn't been so foolish because now he may never get the chance to explain himself to Dean. Would never get the chance to apologize for being an idiot. Castiel wished pleadingly that someone would come to save him, but no one came for him. 

Jorge snatched Cas by the shoulders, yanking him over to the door that had a rusted metal plate over it, with a number three engraved on the cheap metal. Cas squirmed against Jorge’s grip, but his movements were sluggish. His body was giving up to fatigue. Jorge got the door open, shoving Cas inside. He collapsed onto the lumpy, old mattress. Feeling the springs dig into his sides when he turned to face Jorge. 

“Please don't,” Cas spoke weakly. His throat had gone as dry as a desert. 

“Shut the fuck up.” A chill went up Castiel’s spine. His heart raced with fear when the last of the feeble light drained from the room as Jorge shut the door. He couldn't escape. Trapped inside the room like a caged animal. Cas tried to scoot up the bed, but clammy cold hands clamped down onto his ankles. 

Castiel fought back a scream. His mind racing with fragmented ways to knock Jorge out so he could escape. His broken, jumbled thoughts only went back to the one person he needed right now. Who he knew could save him.

“D-Dean,” Cas whimpered. Not meaning to speak let alone utter Dean’s name but his thoughts were in a frenzy. 

The clammy hands snaked up Castiel’s legs. Stopping at his waist. Cas felt Jorge's warm breath against his neck. Smelt the foul odor wafting from Jorge’s clothes. 

“He left you. Left you all alone, didn’t he? Well, he's surely not going to come back for your crybaby ass,” Jorge taunted. One of his hands were pulling on Cas’ zipper. Castiel couldn't move. His limbs felt as heavy as lead. His mind strung out and tired.

I'm sorry Dean, Cas thought before completely losing all train of thought. He felt heavy weight settle on top of him, but his hearing was drifting like static on a radio. He felt himself disconnect from reality. Didn't feel the clammy hands on his body anymore. In fact, Castiel felt quite peaceful drifting off into the black sea of unconsciousness. He didn't return for a very long time but even in the sea of abyss, his mind would occasionally trail off to thoughts of a better time when Gabriel was alive. Followed by bits and pieces of what would’ve happened if Dean hadn't left so suddenly.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter turned dark, but don't worry it's going to be alright. Jorge is going to get what's coming to him soon. So, let us know what you thought of this chapter and thank you for reading! :) Chapters may start updating less frequently as my co-writer and I are currently heading into our first year of college, however, we do still plan on continuing with this story and so updates will still happen.


	9. Dean

He probably shouldn’t have been driving in the condition he was in. Dean found himself parked in front of Changes, trying to figure out if he was still too panicked to go in. The thoughts in his head seemed to be playing in a loop: Cas, Cas, feelings, abandonment, inadequacy, Cas, Cas. Eventually, he found himself unable to proceed without a strong drink. 

After shoving his way through a crowd of rowdy drunk men and declining three offers of “getting out of here” Dean was finally able to plant himself on a barstool. He smiled slightly when he saw that Donnie was working the bar. He was a good guy, Dean had been trying to get a date with him for years with no luck. Donnie always just chuckled and gave the same reply, “I’m way too handsome for you, and I have a policy of not dating customers.” 

Dean rested his head on the dirty bar until Donnie finally caught sight of him and managed to make his way over from the other customers. 

“Dean,” he smiled. At least someone was happy.

“Two shots of Jagermeister and a Jack and Coke.”

“Well, you look like sunshine and rainbows today, care to talk about it?”

Dean almost laughed at the idea. Him? Sharing emotions? Not likely. 

“No, I just need to get drunk as fast as possible.”

Donnie wrinkled forehead in concern but didn’t argue. A minute later Donnie put down the drinks. Dean grabbed one of the shots and had it halfway down before he heard Donnie add, “it’s on the house, you look like you need it.” Dean grunted in thanks before grabbing the other shot and downing it. 

After finishing every drink in front of him and accepting two more from guys he blew off thirty seconds later, Dean felt himself start to relax a bit. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called the first name in his contacts. 

“Eeeeric.”

“Dean?”

“Where are you tuhnight buuuuuudy? Gey yo ass down here.”

“Dean Winchester dragging me to a night out? What’s the occasion?”

Dean remembered why he was out. Cas Cas Cas.

“No occasion just wanna have Cas. Fun. I meant fun. I’ll see YOU soon.”

He hung up the phone and put his attention back on his drink and then to a man sitting halfway down the bar. He was cute, tousled black hair, kissable lips, Dean was sure he had seen him before. His memory was getting more and more cloudy with every drink. Finally, the guy looked back at him and nearly fell off his chair. In the interest of not seeming like a giant creepy stalker, Dean shifted his gaze once again to Donnie. He really did have a nice ass. 

“Daaaamn Dean, I’d tap that.”

Dean looked up to see Eric standing next to him with a big stupid grin on his face. 

“Shut up and get a drink. I need someone to feel miserable with.”

“Amen to that, especially if he’s the one serving them up.” 

After a few tries, Eric finally was able to wave Donnie over and place his order. While he was mixing the drink, Eric decided to try out a few of his cringe-worthy pick up lines. 

“Hey, is there a magnet in your pants, because I’m attracted to those buns of steel.” 

Donnie just laughed and shook his head. 

“You’re friend here is quite the character, Dean.”

“Yeah, you get used to it.”

Before the drinks were finished Eric managed to fire off a few more lines including, “are you a drill sergeant? Because you have my privates standing at attention,” and “I may not be a windshield repairman, but I can still fill your crack in.” 

Eventually, God had mercy and Donnie left to attend to other customers. 

“So Dean, why did you actually call me? It doesn’t seem like you were just interested in a fun night out.”

“Uhhhhhh. I dunno. Cas started saying all this eeeeemootional shtuff to meh and I kinda freaked and left without sayin anythang and I dunno what tuh do now I khant feelings right.”

“Wait, the Cas that lives next door? Hot Cas?”

“I gUEss.”

“Well you’re obviously too drunk to handle this tonight, and I deem you too emotionally distraught to be out right now so you’re crashing at my place tonight.”

“You don’t got-”

“No. I’m calling you a cab, here’s one of my extra keys, you’re leaving.”

“Why you not takin me?”

Eric looked back at Donnie and quirked his mouth up in a half smile. 

“Hopefully I’ll be busy later.”

“Ewww. You iz not allowed with Doooonie.”

“Okay, Dean, whatever you say.”

Eric pressed a key into Dean’s palm along with an address scribbled on a cocktail napkin. 

“Go home, Dean. Go home.” 

Eric was probably right, and the last thing he wanted to do was face Cas again tonight. The last thing he wanted to do was face Cas ever again. Cas would be better off without another fuck-up in his life anyway. This was best. 

**********

He stumbled into the house at half-past god knows when. It wasn’t much, a shabby two bedroom filled with a faint musty scent, soft music playing in the background. Did he just have that playing constantly? Whatever, Dean was too tired to consider anything more about his surroundings, It was all he could do to stumble into what he assumed was the guest bedroom and pass out under the protection of the soft comforter.

**********

Dean was woken by the sound of a door slamming somewhere in the house. He faintly wondered who the hell was coming into his apartment at this time of night before remembering where he was. Eric, the bar, Cas. Cas. He pulled the covers closer around him. Suddenly he began hearing voices from the rest of the house.

“Shhhh, Dean’s crashing here tonight, we havetuh be quiiiiiiet.” It was Eric’s voice, doing that thing drunk people do where they pretend like they’re whispering while actually shouting. 

“No, we can’t hook up while Dean’s here.”

“Relax, he’s not going to wake up, he’s wayyyyyyy too drunk for that.”

Was that Donnie? With Eric? Ewwww. Dean shoved the pillow over his head and tried to block out the world. It might have been successful if the door didn’t open two seconds later.

It seems like a thousand thoughts flashed through his mind in the span of two seconds. First: this wasn’t the guest bedroom. How did he not notice that until now? The pictures and laundry basket and large assortment of lava lamps. Second: Fuck. Fuck.Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. Third: What the hell was he going to do. Should he just get up and walk out? Should he make a loud grunting sound to announce his presence? Should he pretend that he’s still sleeping? Should he try to join them?

In the end, his slowed mental functions decided to just lay there and hope they go away. He could hear them making out against the door and some pretty raunchy talk coming from Eric which his mind chose to interpret into the same sound the adults from Charlie Brown make to spare him from permanent mental damage. He almost thought that they would never make it to the bed and he could just sleep there the whole night, at least until he felt a large heavy body fall on top of him. 

“Fuck!” Dean couldn’t even tell who screamed that or maybe if they all did at once but whoever was on top of him got off real quick after that. 

Dean sat up to find a fully naked Donnie and (thank God) partially dressed Eric staring at him with a horrified look in their eyes. Donnie quickly snatched the comforter off the bed and did his best to cover up. There was a solid minute of just silence in which no one knew what to do or say. Eventually, Donnie was the first one to speak up. “I think I’m just going to leave now, I’ll uh, see you guys around I guess.” And with that, he scooped up his clothes and walked out. 

After the back door shut, Dean looked back to Eric who was giving him the most terrifying look he had ever seen from another human being. He was honestly just surprised that he didn’t spontaneously combust under the heat of the glare. The only thing Eric said to him was, “You’re sleeping on the couch, I want you gone first thing tomorrow.” Dean didn’t have the energy to argue so he drug himself into the living room and flopped down on the loveseat. The last thing muttered before drifting into blackness was, “Goodnight Cas,” and he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter :) My co-writer and I are really happy with this chapter and we really loved writing it. Next chapter we're bringing in a surprise new perspective. I think you're gonna love them haha. So let us know what you thought and thank you for reading!


	10. Balthazar

Balthazar arrived to Castiel’s flower shop, intending to talk more to his little brother about the strange relationship that him and Dean had developed. Balthazar absolutely thought that the whole thing screamed psycho serial killer, but Cas refused to listen. He was getting concerned for his brother. 

He reached for the doorknob, but was met with the closed sign hanging on the other side of the door. That wouldn’t have struck him as odd, if Cas hadn’t always opened his shop at nine in the morning everyday except for Sunday’s for the past four years. Even with the flu, Cas managed to have the place opened on time. Although his stomach turned uncomfortably, Balthazar was still hopeful that Cas had merely slept in because his alarm had died or that he hadn’t even set his alarm. Even as these feeble excuses filled his mind, he knew that something had gone terribly wrong with Castiel. He reached into his jacket pocket for his cellphone. Quickly locating Cas’ contact number. He waited for the connection to establish the call. The phone only rang three times before Cas answered.

“Cas, why aren’t you at the shop?” Balthazar spoke before Castiel could even say hello. He didn’t want to waste time on pleasantries when his gut kept urging on the idea that his little brother was in trouble.

“I’m not feeling too well. Think that I’m coming down with somethin’.” Balthazar could hear the terrible attempt of Cas trying to sound as if he had a stuffy nose, but decided to play along with his brother. Wanting to see how long Cas would bullshit him. 

“Okay, I’ll come visit you then. I’m at the shop already so I’ll be there soon.”

“No! I mean, I really don’t want any company. I wouldn’t want to risk you catching my cold.” Balthazar shook his head. Whatever his brother had done must’ve been awful if he was this devoted to keeping him away.

“Well I don’t care about getting sick. I’m coming anyway and you’ll just-” Balthazar was cut off by someone loudly yelling on Castiel’s end of the call.

“No wonder he fucking ditched you. I'm not letting you leave here Castiel. Not until you give me what I was promised last night." Balthazar’s hand gripped the phone tightly. It couldn’t be. A rush of boiling hot anger swept through his veins.

“Cas who was that yelling?” He tried asking calmy for the sake of his brother but inside he was ready to punch something. Preferably wanting that something to be the person who Castiel was with.

“It’s the other neighbor. Just a couple fighting is all. Don’t worry about it Balthazar.”

“Don’t you dare fucking lie to me! That was Jorge wasn’t it? Please tell me you’re not back with him. Where are you?”

“Balthazar I can’t have you get involved. I’m so sorry.”

“Castiel Novak don’t you dare hang up on me.” Balthazar was only met with silence. “Cas? Cas?!” There was no one on the other line. Balthazar was  merely greeted with empty silence.

He closed his eyes and tried to take a deep breath. It didn't help calm him down, Balthazar ended up turning around to hurl his phone at the nearest wall.

“Son of a fucking bitch!” He couldn’t contain the shout of rage. His hands were shaking, however his mind was perfectly clear. The idea of Cas being at his apartment was unlikely but he had to be sure. He couldn’t lose Castiel. Protecting him had been all he’d known since they were kids. His job to keep his baby brother from harm and he wasn’t about to fail when Cas needed him most.  

********

He ran into the apartment complex fully set on getting up to the third floor as quickly as possible. The elevator he knew was too slow, so he went for the stairs. Nearly smacked into the gate that blocked off the stairwell. A small sign read on the front of the gate,  _ blocked for construction.  _ Balthazar thought the very idea was ridiculous until he remembered that he’d broken the stairs the morning before. He fucking broke the stairs and because of it he ended up fucking himself over. He resisted kicking the shit out of the gate. Instead, he went over to the elevator. Almost breaking the up button when he forcefully pushed down onto it. 

It felt like a damn eternity waiting for the slow ass machine to open its doors. In reality it took maybe a minute, but to Balthazar, that minute dragged on into hours. As he waited for the elevator,all he saw was his baby brother getting abused by Jorge. It’d be all his fault if he didn’t get there in time to save him. 

Finally, the metal doors slid open with as much speed as a snail. Balthazar stepped in, pressing the level three button at least four times before the elevator started climbing up. Soft, quiet jazz music filled the small space. Slowly driving Balthazar nearly insane enough to consider finding the speaker with the intention to smash it into pieces. 

His thoughts trailed off into what he’s truly like to get his hands on. He couldn’t wait to wrap his fingers around Jorge’s neck. To smash his head against the wall till it was covered in blood. He could practically feel the blood dripping onto his fingers. 

Balthazar shoved his way through the elevator doors when they started to open. Bolting down the hallway, and stopping at Castiel’s door. He wasn’t aware of how quickly his heart was racing in his chest. He put all his focus onto trying to speak without shouting.

“Cas? Cas, open the door.” He waited a couple seconds. Waiting to hear the customary shuffle of footsteps before the lock unlatched, the door opening to reveal his brother. If it was Jorge who answered, than he’d happily deck him in the face but none of that happened. No one came to the door nor made a sound. Balthazar’s vision wavered slightly. A red haze clouded his vision for a brief moment. By that point he’d backed up a bit from the door, kicking it down with all the force he could muster. The door popped off its hinges. The sound loud enough to wake up all the neighbors on the third floor. Balthazar didn’t give a fuck if he woken them up. The only thing he could think or even care about was finding his brother.

“Cas!? Dammit answer me!” His yelling was for nothing. Part of him knew that. The other half of him didn’t want to consider that Cas wasn’t at his apartment but actually stuck at Jorge’s place. He searched frantically. His heart sinking like a heavy weighted rock with every second that went by without a sight of his brother. It didn’t even look like he’d been home in a while which meant…. “No. Please fucking don’t be that,” Balthazar said to himself. He didn’t want to finish his thought. To stop himself from completely losing it, he hurried out of Cas’ vacant apartment. Cas would just have to be mad at him for the busted door later. Balthazar really didn’t give a shit as long as he found Cas un-harmed. Of course, that wouldn’t stop him from beating the shit out of Jorge. That part was un-negotiable. He spun on his heel to head down the way he came when he came toe to toe with one of the neighbors.     

“What the hell is going on!?”

Balthazar remembered the voice. It’d been the same one that he’d argued with sometime yesterday. He thought that the guy had said his name was Dean. Balthazar couldn't be sure though. It didn't matter what the creep’s name was if he couldn't tell him what Balthazar needed to know. 

“Where the fuck is Cas!? Where’s my brother!?” 

“He’s missing? What the hell happened? Shit, this is my fault isn’t it? Shit shit shit.” The guy seemed legitimately worried, although it was the guilt written on his face that set Balthazar off. He grabbed the guy by the shoulders, pinning him up against the wall.

“What do you mean it’s your fault? What the fucking hell did you do to him?” Balthazar nearly growled out. The red haze had returned. His mind had closed off all common sense. His main goal was locating Cas.  

If this asshole had anything to do with Jorge getting his filthy hands on him then he’d pay the price.  

“Nothing! I mean, I just did something to him that he didn’t deserve. Now would you mind telling me what the hell is happening?”

Balthazar loosened the hold he had on Dean. Thinking of how Dean might be of use to him to find Cas before he comprehended all that Dean had said to him.  _ I just did something to him that he didn’t deserve…. _ Balthazar smacked Dean against the wall again. A sick sense of pleasure rolling through him when he heard Dean’s head hit the wall. 

“What did you do to him!? Tell me exactly what you did to Cas, right now asshole!” 

“None of your fucking business until you tell me what’s going on.”

Balthazar tightened his grip on Dean. Half tempted to throw him down the hallway but he needed to know what he did to Cas. What role did he play for Cas being stuck at Jorge’s place? There was no way that this guy was involved unless….

“You wanna know what happened!? My baby brother is trapped at some psycho's house and you wanna know what else? I think you fucking helped that psycho get his hands on him.” Balthazar glared murderously at Dean. Knowing that whatever pussy ass excuse this guy gave him wouldn’t be able to save him. Not when he had a hand in hurting Cas. 

Balthazar felt himself get knocked back by Dean. His back hitting the other side of the hallway. He staggered up to his feet. Taking notice of the fact that Dean’s eyes had gone nearly all black.  

“Why don’t you go to hell Balthazar? I would never do anything like that to Cas so if you really cared about him you would stop wasting time here and actually look for him you insensitive ass bag.” 

Balthazar lashed forward. Shoving the guy back towards the wall. 

“Don’t talk to me about caring for my little brother. It’s your fault that he’s stuck with that abusive psycho. Whatever you did to him, I hope you pay for it. Don’t you ever talk to him again, you got that asshole?” Balthazar spat out. He waited for a response. The shocked look that crossed Dean’s face didn’t make sense to him. If Dean was in on whatever Jorge had planned, then why was he standing there acting as if Balthazar had two heads?  

“Wait, he’s with Jorge? His ex Jorge?”

“Not by choice, no thanks to you. That bastard nearly killed him once, I’m not about to let that happen again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Fuck it.” Balthazar was done talking to this idiot. He let go of Dean. Bolting into the guy’s room, Balthazar quickly shut the door. Locking the deadbolt before also securing the chain lock. He felt the door shudder as he heard Dean proceed to shove his body against it.  

“Open the damn door ass hat!”

Balthazar ignored Dean. Scanning the room quickly for any sign of Cas, but all he saw was a guitar in its stand, a messy bed, clothes strewn along the floor, and a box of records next to the dresser. He heard the chain lock give way to the abuse that Dean was putting to the door. A flash of panic filled him when he turned around to see the significant amount of damage done to the door. A gap was already forming. The deadbolt wouldn’t last for much longer. 

Balthazar saw out of the corner of his eye the curtain flutter. He turned towards the motion and hurried over to the open window. Not wasting time to move the curtains, he shoved his legs through the window. The last glimpse he saw of Dean’s room was the door bursting open. As quick as he could, he hurried down the fire escape. Running the second his feet hit the asphalt. He looked back for only a second and saw Dean looking out the window.     

 

**********

Balthazar had made it back to his car, fishtailing it out of the parking lot. He didn’t think twice about the speed limit. The cop could give him a damn speeding ticket after he had his little brother safe from Jorge. A lot of cars honked their horns loudly, even getting a few middle fingers directed towards him when he ran several red lights, but Balthazar ignored them. He only took notice of one detail, which was when he passed by Changes. Jorge’s place was another twenty minutes away. He only knew this because of that night he had to come get Cas. That night when he’d nearly lost Cas all due to his shitty ass boyfriend Jorge. Each minute dragged by slowly. Traffic became congested when he was about ten minutes away from getting to the apartment complex.

He rolled down his window, leaning out to see what was holding everything up. There was an accident up at the turn lane. It appeared that someone had tried to do a U-turn and someone had crashed into the passenger's side of the car. 

Balthazar had no way of changing lanes but he’d already broken the speed limit, what was one more misdeed? Balthazar turned his steering wheel to the right and hit the gas. His car went over the island separating the two lanes of traffic, he didn’t waste much time to check to see if anybody had seen what he’d done. The few police that were at the scene were busy talking to the idiots that had caused the traffic jam. 

Speeding down the street, he took a quick right turn and cut through the backstreets. The brakes screeched loudly when he abruptly stopped in front of the apartments. He saw that fuckhead’s car was there in the parking lot. Balthazar cut the engine of his car, shoving the keys into his pocket as he bolted out the car. Heading straight for apartment number three, Balthazar kicked the door down the second he reached the room. The sight that greeted him made his stomach churn. Cas lay crumpled on the floor, towering over him was Jorge who was holding Cas’ head up by his hair. Jorge’s other arm extended back, his hand clenched in a fist. Balthazar’s entire body filled with fiery, burning rage. Jorge had turned his head towards the loud bang that the door had caused. His eyes widening with fear when he caught sight of Balthazar standing at the threshold. 

“Look, Balthazar-” That was all Jorge was able to say in a shaky voice before Balthazar lunged at him. His fist smashing into Jorge’s jaw, knocking him down to the ground. His hand was still tangled in Cas’ hair, causing Castiel to be yanked down with him. A small moan of pain escaped from Cas. Balthazar wanted nothing more than to check on his brother. The only thing stopping him from doing so was that he wasn’t about to let this fuckass get away again. This was the last time Jorge ever harmed his little brother. 

Jorge stared up at Balthazar with a slight smirk on his face. Fear still glowed from the depths of his eyes, although mock cockiness covered it like a shield. Balthazar sharply kicked him in the ribs once, meaning to pull him off the ground afterwards, but one kick sent a shrill of satisfaction through him when he heard Jorge’s pained yelp. He couldn’t resist kicking him several more times. The last time, he heard the sound of a bone breaking, along with a high pitched scream. 

“Shut the fuck up you piece of shit. Get up!” Balthazar demanded in a growl. 

“He wanted it. Begged me even. Your brother got what he deserved,” Said Jorge with a grin. 

Balthazar let out a sadistic noise that could only be described as a growl mixed with an inhuman roar of fury. He quickly snatching Jorge up from the ground. The hand that Jorge had in Cas’ hair going slack with surprise. Balthazar swung Jorge’s head against the nearest wall. A sickening crunch filled the room when his head connected with the wall. Balthazar watched the body crumple down to the floor before advancing towards Jorge again. Kneeling down to where the body lay, shoving him over to his back so he could get a clear shot of his face. Jorge’s eyes flickered around, the hit had rendered him near unconsciousness. Balthazar didn’t know how much longer he had before one of the neighbors called the cops. That is if someone hadn’t dialed for them already. In that case, he didn’t have much time at all. 

Balthazar reared back his arm and clenched his hand into a fist. Striking Jorge squarely in the nose before raising his arm back again for another attack. Jorge raised his hands up in weak defense. Balthazar pinned them down with his other hand. His clenched fist now rapidly hitting Jorge’s face. One of Jorge’s eyes were becoming swollen. Blood leaked from the head wound he had gotten from the hit to the wall. More blood dripped down Jorge’s chin from his busted lip. Balthazar heard and felt Jorge’s nose break. Could feel the bones caving into his fist. It filled him with sick pleasure to hear Jorge’s cry for mercy. 

“You didn’t give mercy to my brother, you sick fuck,” Balthazar snarled. He watched with satisfaction as Jorge gurgled around the blood that must have filled his throat. A murderous grin had formed on Balthazar’s lips. He punched him once more, Jorge’s head bounced with the force of the hit. Knocking him out completely. 

Balthazar got up to his feet. His body was still shaking with adrenaline. He looked over to his left where Cas lay in a fetal position. 

“It’s alright now Cas. He can’t hurt you anymore,” Balthazar said softly. Cautiously walking over to his brother. Castiel met Balthazar’s gaze but he knew his brother wasn’t truly seeing him. A dark, heavy bruise was already forming on Cas’ left cheek. A thin but deep cut marked his other cheek. One of his eyes was already swollen shut. The other an unhealthy shade of purple, already half swollen. Balthazar wanted to turn around and finish the job on Jorge. The piece of shit didn’t deserve to live but what good would Balthazar be to Castiel if he were stuck in jail? No, he needed to be able to be here for his little brother. Now more than ever. 

“D-D-Don’t h-hurt m-me,” Cas whimpered. Curling more into himself. Balthazar’s heart felt like it was being stabbed. He needed to get Castiel out of this room and into the car. In the distance, he could hear police sirens. 

“I’m not going to hurt you. It’s your brother Balthazar. Now I’ve got to pick you up so that I can get you out of here. I’m not going to hurt you, Cas. You’re safe now.” Balthazar gathered his brother into his arms. Making sure to avoid touching his right side which was deeply bruised. Castiel feebly whimpered, clinging to Balthazar. 

“I’m taking you home Cas.”

********

Balthazar had gotten them to his house two hours later. Castiel had fallen into a fitful sleep in the backseat on the ride there. Occasionally, Balthazar would hear soft pleas from Cas for Jorge to stop hitting him or to let him go. At one point he heard Cas beg for Dean to come back. Hearing his little brother nearly sob for forgiveness made his bitter feelings towards Dean grow all the more. 

He had carried Castiel into his house. Lying him down on the bed in the guest bedroom. Castiel didn’t let go of him. His fingers curled like claws, held onto Balthazar’s shirt. 

“Cas, I’ve got to go lock up the car and I’ll be back,” Balthazar murmured.

“Don’t leave me, please. I don’t want to be left again,” Castiel said barely above a whisper. 

“I’m not leaving you, Cas. I’ve just got to lock up the car.” Balthazar managed to get out of Cas’ hold. He made for the door, knowing his brother would be alright enough to be left alone for a couple seconds. That didn’t mean he was going to let Castiel go back to his apartment. Not until he found out how Dean managed to get tangled into this whole mess. Even then Balthazar didn’t want to let Cas go back home. He’d gone through too much shit to be shoved back into the regular routine of daily life. 

Balthazar locked his 67’ Charger, made sure to lock the front door of the house, before heading back to the guest room. He found Cas sobbing in a ball on the middle of the bed. He hurried over to him, cradling his brother into his arms. 

“He tried to rape me,” Castiel blurted out. Burrowing his tear-stained face into Balthazar’s neck. It took all of Balthazar’s strength to keep from getting up to punch the wall. He needed to keep calm for Cas.

“I took care of him. You’re safe now. It’s going to be alright.”

“I was such an idiot, Balthazar.”

Balthazar frowned with confusion. “No, you’re not. Don’t believe a thing that fuckass said to you, Cas.”

“It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t s-said an-anything to D-Dean-” Sobs broke off Castiel’s words. It left Balthazar with a sour taste in the back of his throat. His first initial thought was that Dean had lied to him after all. That Dean had a hand in Castiel falling into Jorge’s hands, but then Cas resumed his explanation. 

“I said something that set Dean off and he left. I thought I could drink away the pain. Such a foolish idea but I went to Changes anyway. That’s where I ran into Jorge. I thought….I thought that I deserved no better than the likes of Jorge and-”

“Castiel don’t tell me you actually went up to him.” Balthazar hoped his little brother hadn’t purposely put himself into harm's way. The slight nod of his head caused Balthazar to become slightly pissed off towards Cas. 

“I realized my mistake when we got to his place, but he wouldn’t let me go. He tried f-forcing m-me to h-have s-sex w-with h-him.” Castiel struggled to say the last part through half strangled sobs.

Balthazar’s hands clenched into fists but he tried to keep his voice steady. 

“You should’ve called me before you went to the damn bar. Hell, you shouldn’t have left your place at all.” 

“I kn-know that now but at that moment in time my mental state was crashing,” Cas said while snuggling closer to Balthazar.

“And Dean made you feel that way? I have half a mind to go back over there and punch him in the face.” Balthazar shut his eyes tightly as the last part slipped out of his mouth. He had not meant to let Cas know about going to his apartment. In the condition Castiel was in, Balthazar didn’t want to add more stress to his brother by telling him about his interaction with Dean. 

“Wait….You went to my apartment, today? What the hell happened?” Castiel peered up at Balthazar with curiosity and concern. It pissed Balthazar off knowing that the concern was towards Dean. What had that guy done to earn his little brother’s trust? He didn’t think that creepy guys talking through the walls to their neighbor should gain any trust or even the power to affect one’s emotions. Somehow, Dean had gotten both out of his brother. The end result leading to Cas being beaten to hell and mentally fucked up. 

“No, I wasn’t over there today. I was speaking of that time I had spent the night at your place, ya know? And I yelled at him for being loud.” It was a piss poor lie. Balthazar knew that, but couldn’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth. 

“Bullshit. You’re a fucking terrible liar. What happened?”

“Obviously I was there looking for you. I was panicking and I was closest to your place. I may have kicked down your door to get into your place but that’s all that happened. Once I saw that you weren’t there I left.”

“Uh huh. Why can’t you say that with a straight face? You’re fidgeting too. Tell me what happened or I’ll go over there and ask Dean myself,” said Cas. Already shifting to get off the bed. 

Balthazar didn’t know why he felt guilty for what had transpired back at the apartment. If Dean hadn’t been so fucking vague about details than he wouldn’t have assumed the worst.  _ That’s fucking bullshit and you know it _ , Balthazar thought to himself. Although that didn’t mean he had to tell Castiel anything. 

“Right, with no car and after having a nightmarish night as well as completely breaking down not even a minute ago. What do you plan on even asking him if you managed to get to the apartment? Demanding to know what went on while you were stuck at ass waffle’s place? Cas, you’re in no condition to be going anywhere.” Balthazar didn’t expect his brother to lash out at him.

“You think talking down to me with make me feel any better? You’re being a dick to me for no reason. I ask you to merely tell me what happened at  _ my  _ apartment and you start belittling me. I’m not a weak damsel in distress.”

Balthazar scoffed. Holding back from laughing at his brother.

“You’re doing a fine job proving that. I just rescued you when no one else would’ve been able to stop him. Cas, I carried you to the damn car and into this room. Were you not just sobbing a minute ago?” Balthazar saw his brother getting ready to exit the room and decided on a different course of action. “Look, I know I’m being a jerk right now. I think I have the right to be a bit pissed off considering that I nearly lost you. Can’t you take a few days to rest here? After everything that you’ve been through, Cas you need time to heal.”

“I don’t have any of my stuff here. Balthazar, I really don’t want you to have to take care of me more than you’ve already had to. I am grateful for you saving me.” 

Balthazar thought over their options. One of the few choices was him going back to the apartments to get Cas’ stuff. He didn’t particularly enjoy the possibility of running back into Dean. 

“Alright, how about this, you get some sleep and I will go back to your place to get some of your clothes.” To him, Cas had gone too calm. He had expected long hours of tears or for Cas to be completely out of it. For someone who had just gone through hell, Cas wasn’t acting like he’d been brutally attacked by his psycho ex-boyfriend.

Balthazar saw Castiel hesitate before walking back over to the bed. Sitting down next to him. 

“Okay. I can’t make any promises on getting any sleep though.” Cas tried to smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. Balthazar thought that this was the eye of a hurricane. Everything would remain peacefully calm for just a moment. How long that moment would last, Balthazar didn’t know. Eventually, the storm would begin. 

********

Balthazar had made it up to the third floor of the complex without any interaction with Dean. He kept hoping that he’d remain lucky enough to not run into him. He’d gone down the hallway, Cas’ door was to the left of Dean’s door. Balthazar wouldn’t have to worry about walking past the guy’s door and risk being heard. 

Balthazar was met with Cas’ closed door. For a second, Balthazar thought that he’d gone down the wrong hallway but he looked at the number of the room and he was confirmed with the fact that it was indeed Castiel’s room.  _ They can fucking fix a door right away but not the stairs?  _ He shrugged his shoulders. The door hadn’t been locked, the door knob easily turning all the way over to the right. Balthazar stealthy entered the apartment. Being sure to make the least amount of noise as possible. That hadn’t stopped him from tripping over his own shoe laces. Landing him directly to the wooden floor. 

“Shit, fuck,” Balthazar nearly shouted when he struck the ground. Momentarily forgetting about trying to be quite. It didn’t take him long to recognize his mistake. He listened for footsteps headed for the door that he’d left wide open but no one made a sound. He thought that’d heard some scuffling but pushed it out of his mind. Balthazar got up onto his feet, tying his shoe hazardly after placing the duffle bag that he’d brought over onto the bed. 

It didn’t take long for Balthazar to gather up a few outfits for Cas. Tossing in his toothbrush and hairbrush at the last second. He looked around the room for anything else that Castiel might want, spying one of his brother’s Elvis albums. He put it in the bag without truly thinking about it. He had a record player at home. Maybe if Cas listened to one of his favorite artists, it’d cheer him up a bit. Balthazar very much doubted that the Elvis album would make Castiel feel any better but he had to try. His back was still to the door as he rifled through Cas’ record collection. He nearly dropped one of the albums when he heard a voice come from the doorway.  

“Cas?”

Balthazar slowly turned around. An awkward smile forming along his lips. Now that he wasn’t being consumed with rage, Balthazar noticed that Dean was a tall, muscled toned guy with short brown hair.  

“Uh, no but hi. Sorry for earlier.” Balthazar didn’t know what else to say to the guy that he had a shoving match with in the hallway only a couple hours ago. Not to mention he’d sort of broken into his room and escaped through his window. 

Balthazar met Dean’s anger filled, confused expression. He had no way of escaping now. He didn’t even have a way to defend his earlier actions. 

“Sorry? You’re fucking sorry? What the hell was that and what happened to Cas?”

Balthazar didn’t have the energy to explain all of what had happened. He didn’t want to fight with Dean, although he knew that Dean was fully in the right for being pissed off. 

“What I did to you was way out of line. I shouldn’t have assumed that you were connected to what was going on. I was scared for Cas. I didn’t know where he was or if he was okay. I unfairly took the situation out on you. I know that saying that I’m sorry isn’t enough to erase what happened earlier but it’s all I know what to say right now. As for my brother, he’s safe now.” Balthazar was still bracing himself for a well-deserved fist to the face but instead, Dean remained standing at the threshold. His expression going from pissed off to concerned and relieved.

 “He’s safe where, and what happened in the first place? There’s a lot of holes in this story you’re giving me.”

“Castiel is at my place. You already know what happened. He got trapped at his ex’s house. Why should I give you more information on Cas’ personal life?” 

“Well you’re the one who involved me in the first place, plus I’m more than a little concerned about him right now. If you’re not going to tell me can you at least give me his cell number so I can ask him myself?”

Balthazar started to feel bad for Dean. He genuinely appeared to be worried about Cas. 

“Alright, I’ll give you his number. It’s (332)672-6435.” Balthazar waited for Dean to tap out the number into his phone. “I gotta head back over to my place to check in on Cas. I’m sorry again for shoving you against a wall and escaping out of your window.”  

“Yeah, that was pretty bad dude, you kind of messed up my shoulder too. If we don’t stop meeting like that I’m going to lose a limb some day.”

Balthazar laughed a bit too loudly. The awkwardness of this meeting was beginning to eat at him. 

“I think it’s best that we limit our interaction with each other,” said Balthazar. Walking towards the door. Dean stepped aside to let him exit the room. He made sure to lock Cas’ door before turning back to Dean.  

“Agreed, I look forward to never talking to you again.”

“The feeling is mutual. I’m uh, going to leave now.” Balthazar headed down the hallway towards the elevator. All the while, he hoped that things would work out between Dean and Cas. He vowed to not interfere with whatever weird relationship that they had going on again until Cas asked him to become involved. That’s what he should’ve done in the first place. 

The elevator dinged, doors sliding open as slowly as ever. He stepped inside and kept his eyes trained down to the floor. Balthazar now had enough awkwardness to last him a life time. Once more, his focus was on getting back to Cas. 

********

When he got back home, he went straight to the guest room to check on Cas. Balthazar found him sprawled out on the bed, appearing to be in a deep sleep. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was noon. To Balthazar, it felt like six-thirty. He was ready to take a very long and relaxing nap. He placed the duffel bag near the closet, where Cas would be able to clearly see it once he woke up. He then went to the room adjacent from the guest room. It wasn’t his usual bedroom, but he didn’t want to be too far away from Cas, incase his brother suddenly needed his help. 

Balthazar flopped onto the bed. Groaning loudly when his back protested against him lying down. Never had he felt so damn fucking old. Despite the sting of pain in his back, he found himself easily slipping into a deep sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheers to anyone who figures out what Cas' number spells out. It was my co-writers idea and we both thought it'd be brilliant as well as awesome if someone knew what it stood for. Comment and let us know if you were able to figure it out and what you think it stands for. Thank you again for reading! We hope you enjoyed this chapter and Balthazar :) We both really loved Balthazar's perspective and we hope you did too. Feel free to send us feedback and let us know if you're liking the story so far.


	11. Dean

Dean stared down at the phone he had been holding in his hand almost the entire morning. He had texted Cas the night before but received no answer. The conversation with Balthazar made him feel a little better about the whole situation, but not by much. It was his fault, if he wasn’t so goddamn emotionally stunted none of this would have happened. He hadn’t been emotionally close to anyone in years, and even now knowing what Cas had said to him made him nervous. Not that it mattered anyway, Cas wasn’t going to ever speak to him again, he might even move out all together. That was probably why Balthazar was there gathering Cas’ clothes, so he could stay away while he looked for a decent place to live. It was all Dean’s fault. 

Despite knowing all this, Dean’s message to Cas still glared back at him from his dimly lit phone screen.  _ Cas, this is Dean, your brother told me something happened to you. Something with Jorge? Please message me back and let me know you’re okay. I’m so sorry for freaking out and leaving you _

He had now spent the better part of two hours thinking of ways he could have better phrased the whole thing, whatever he could have said to get Cas to respond. 

Finally at about nine in the morning three little dots appeared on the screen indicating that someone was typing. Dean’s stomach jumped and he gripped the phone a bit tighter as if it were his last life line. One second.Two seconds. The dots disappeared for about a minute before reappearing. It almost felt like an invasion of privacy to watch Cas start and restart the text over and over. Then the text popped up:  _ I really can’t talk to you right now Dean _

His heart sank. It wasn’t I don’t want to talk about it or I don’t feel like talking right now, it was I don’t want to talk to  _ you _ . Not that Dean could blame him. He didn’t even want to be around himself but there wasn’t exactly a way to avoid it. After some hesitation he decided to text a response.  _ I understand. If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me.  _

Dean half felt like chucking the phone across the room and half felt like shoving it down his own throat until he died of asphyxiation. He was about to settle on picking up the guitar and going full emo when another notification popped up and brightened the dark screen. He punched in the wrong passcode four times before he could unlock his phone and looked down in confusion. There was no reply from Cas which meant someone else had texted him. It was a message from John.  _ If you’re still taking Samson today I have everything together. Going to take a second to get the booster seat installed. _

Dean had almost forgotten about agreeing to take his little brother for the day. After Balthazar dropped the bomb about Cas being in trouble and jumped out the window, Dean had decided that it was important to hold the people who matter closest to you and asked John if he could spend some time with Samson. John had been hesitant at first, asking if Dean even knew how to take care of a little kid until Dean not so gently reminded him that he had helped his mother raise Sam half the time so he was probably better qualified than John. 

He hoped that Samson wouldn’t end up being scared of him or anything, after all, to him Dean was just some random guy picking him up and taking him away. With a sigh, Dean texted John back and gathered his things to leave. 

 

**********

 

As he pulled up to the house Dean could feel the goosebumps form on his arm. John had never moved from the house Dean had grown up in, however it looked different than before, less alive somehow. It was probably because John just didn’t care enough to make a friendly looking environment for Samson to grow up in. His mother had always kept up the aesthetics of the place, It was almost like she thought a pleasant exterior could mask all of the ugly things going on inside. 

Dean got out of the car and walked up the path to the door, hesitating before giving it a light knock. John opened the door looking like he just dropped out of a soccer dad magazine with fresh clean clothes, combed hair, and a dishtowel thrown over his left shoulder. He looked nothing like he did when Dean last saw him in that doorway. 

“Come in, sorry for the mess, Samson likes to throw his toys everywhere but in the toy chest.” 

Dean stepped in and dug his fingernails into his palms trying to bite back all the dark memories. He could see the kitchen where his father had made him take off his shirt and grab onto counter while he gave him the belt, the knives he would grab to threaten his mother. He could see the hallway he was thrown down countless times and the entrance to a small room that had been Sammy’s nursery and later his bedroom, though Dean had slept in there half the time anyway on the nights John had gotten particularly drunk and not passed out. The only thing that shook him out of the memories was a small boy opening the door to that room and peeking his head out. 

“Daddy, is that Dean?”

Dean crouched down and smiled in what he hoped was an inviting manner. 

“Hey little man, I’m your big brother.”

Samson stepped the rest of the way out of the room and walked over to John, grabbing onto his hand. Dean notices a slew of toy trucks and cars scattering his room.

“Do you like cars?”

“Yeah. I like the ones that can go really fast.”

Samson pulled a Hotwheels car out of his pocket and made a “whooom” noise as he pushed it to the other side of the room. It was this moment that Dean realized he had no idea how to talk to little kids. 

“So are you ready to go? We’re going to this really cool park with the biggest swings you’ve ever seen.”

“I don't really know you though.” 

Dean’s heart sank a little knowing that he had missed out on so much of his brother’s life already. John stepped forward and Dean flinched for a second before he realized that he was just reaching for Samson’s bag. 

“We talked about this, Dean is your big brother and he wants to get to know you. He’s family, he’s not scary.”

Dean gave another half smile to try to emphasize the point. 

“If he's my big brother, how come I haven't met him before now?”

Dean paused wondering if it would be appropriate to tell him the truth or not. 

“Well, I didn’t know about you, but now I do and you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me, I promise.” 

“Pinky swear?”

Dean held out both of his pinkies. “Double pinky swear.”

Samson smiled and wrapped his tiny fingers around Dean’s 

“Alright, are you ready to come have fun with me now?”

“Yeah! Do you have a fast car?”

“Yep, and it makes loud engine noises and everything.”

“Like a race car does?”

“Just like a race car.” 

Dean stood up and John handed him the bag and booster seat. Dean managed to scoop them both up in one arm so he could hold out his other hand for Samson to hold. He grabbed on and Dean led him out the door and to the Impala. John stayed behind and opted for leaning against the doorway to watch them leave. Good, at least he understood that this didn’t mean Dean liked him any more than he did before. 

After securing the seat and buckling Samson in Dean Started up the engine. He heard an awed sound from the back seat and revved the engine a few times until Samson was clapping and laughing. 

“Pretty cool huh?”

“It’s awesome!”

Dean spent the rest of the ride perhaps going a little faster than he should have and taking the turns a little tighter than needed so he could hear Samson giggling in the back seat. 

When they arrived at the park Samson was so anxious to get out that Dean could barely wrestle the seat belt from around the car seat before he was out the door and onto the play structures. Dean half smiled as he shut the door and followed Samson. Something about the way he ran and giggled as he went down the slide reminded Dean of Sammy at that age. He was always smiling that gap-toothed smile, even when he hurt himself or didn’t get what he wanted. He was a happy kid. 

Dean realized that he should probably be paying closer attention to Samson so he sat down on one of the park benches and put on his sun glasses. Samson was entertaining himself by running up the stairs and sliding down the fire fighter type pole over and over, trying to grip onto it as long as he could without giving in to the laws of physics and letting gravity pull him downwards onto the soft bark. 

He had been sitting there for a good 15 minutes when an older woman came and sat next to him. She was the type of woman who could have been everyone’s grandma with kind eyes, sensible clothes, light makeup, and a slightly portly figure. She smiled at Dean and nodded her head towards where the children were playing. 

“Which one is yours?”

Startled by the question, Dean pointed towards Samson who was now making his way across the monkey bars, swinging his legs several times before moving his arms to the next bar. 

“Ooh, boys can be difficult to raise, so much energy. I hope he doesn’t give you too much trouble.”

Not knowing what else to say Dean replied, “No, he’s a good kid. Set him down with a couple toy cars and he’ll be fine for hours.” 

What was he saying? He barely knew the kid, now he was making small talk in the park about him with some little old lady who assumed Dean was the father and at this point, it would be far too awkward to correct her. 

The old lady chuckled and said, “I wish my grandson was that well behaved, he could probably light a small town with the amount of energy he has in that tiny little body. It amazes me how he never gets tired.” 

Dean thought back to Sammy. Sometimes the kid would grab his little toy plane and run in circles in the backyard for hours while their mom weeded the flower bed. 

“Samson has those days too. He can be a real handful sometimes.”

The old woman nodded and chuckled. “Well it’s hard being a single parent, or do you have a wife?”

“Husband.” Mother fucker, that was a stupid thing to say. The old woman raised her eyebrows, silently asking for more information.

“Uh, his name is Cas, we’ve been together for a few years and we just adopted Samson a couple months ago.” Dean was panicking, and at this point, he wasn’t quite sure why he was lying to the woman. He pretended to glance at his wrist for the time before remembering that he doesn’t wear a watch and pulling out his phone instead.

“Well, look at that, time flies. I have to go now so… have a nice day.” Dean got up half panicked at the string of lies he just threw at an unsuspecting old lady. And why the hell did he say that Cas is his husband? He shook the thought out of his head, deciding not to dwell on that little slip too much. 

He approached Samson on the play equipment and told him that it was time to go. Samson looked back up at Dean with big dewy eyes.

“But we just got here.”

“I know buddy but it’s time to go.”

Samson crossed his arms and sat down defiantly on the ground, “No.”

Dean racked his brain for a way to get Samson out of the park without making a scene. “You know what good boys get when they leave the park right?”

Samson perked up, leaning in a little closer to Dean in anticipation. “No…”’

Dean smiled and said the two words he knew would end the argument instantly. “Ice cream.”

With that Samson stood up and grabbed Dean’s hand jumping up and down the rest of the way to the Impala, barely staying still enough for Dean to buckle him back into the car seat. 

 

**********

 

Dean felt bad about leaving the park so soon and let Samson pick out whatever he wanted for ice cream. That turned out to be a mistake because his ice cream selection turned out to be a triple scoop abomination in a cup that was a mixture of double fudge, bubblegum, and strawberry. Dean got a single scoop of the specialty apple pie flavor on a simple sugar cone. 

Dean watched Samson attempt to eat the mountain of ice cream in front of him, but more of it seemed to go onto the front of his shirt than in his mouth. Dean thought about how hard the stain would be to wash out and let Samson continue to spoon it down his front side. He was so concentrated on the ice cream that he almost didn’t notice who walked in the shop.

“Donnie?”

The Donnie turned around and Dean suddenly remembered with perfect clarity that the last time he had seen him the man was entirely naked. 

“Oh, hey, Dean.” Donnie sounded less than enthusiastic. He glanced at Samson. “Is this your… son?”

“No,” Dean almost shouted, in a panicked attempt to avoid the predicament he just got out of, “he’s my little brother, Samson.”

Donnie furrowed his brow. “Aren’t you a little old to have a brother that age?”

“My dad had me young, and this little guy was a surprise.” Samson looked briefly up from his tower of ice cream and gave a big toothy smile before directing his attention back to the task at hand. 

There was an awkward pause between Donnie and Dean. They both knew what they were avoiding and neither was willing to bring it up. Right when Dean was about to say something a man came up behind Donnie and wrapped his arms around his waist. Donnie jumped in surprise and gave a nervous laugh when he saw who it was. 

“Dean,” he said, speaking several octaves higher than he was a moment before, “this is my boyfriend, Nick. Nick, this is my friend Dean.” 

Dean raised his eyebrows and tentatively shook Nick’s hand. Nick gave him an easy smile and looped his arm through Donnie’s possessively. Boyfriend? Did that make Eric the other woman? Well, more like the other man but still. Dean struggled to find out what the appropriate thing to say was in this situation and eventually just settled with, “nice to meet you.”

“It’s always nice to meet Donnie’s friends. It almost seems like he’s keeping me away from them sometimes,” Nick joked, grabbing Donnie’s arm lightly and chuckling. Dean decided to not ponder too thoroughly what reasons Donnie had to hide away the rest of his friends. Dean suddenly felt grateful that the guy had declined to go out with him so many times. Who knows what kind of diseases he could pick up from the man who seemingly entered every available ass in town (or was entered by every available dick. Dean couldn’t decide if Donnie was a top or a bottom). 

“Well… Donnie just has so many  _ friends _ ” 

Donnie shot a glare at Dean who stifled a smug grin. Donnie deserved much worse but Dean didn’t want to risk getting in a fight in front of Samson so he wouldn’t push the issue. 

“We should get going, you seem like you’re busy with your brother,” Donnie said, pulling gently on his boyfriend’s arm. Nick obliged, and made his way to the counter after shooting Dean a quick, “nice meeting you.” Dean made a poor attempt at a poker face until the couple finally left.

He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself about the whole situation, as horrible as it was. Eric could really pick ‘em. Only he could narrow it down the douchiest guy and try to fuck him. 

Finally, Samson finished his ice cream and Dean wiped off his face. He knew it was time for him to take Samson home but he had this odd impulse to just kidnap the kid. For the hundredth time, he reminded himself that there is no evidence (so far) that John has been a bad father to Samson. He seems to be plenty happy living with him, nothing like how Dean had acted as a child. 

Finally, he had the willpower to bring Samson home and drop him off in his father’s arms. Just before leaving Dean found himself hugging Samson, gently whispering, “goodbye Sammy,” into his pale brown hair. 

 

**********

 

Dean sent Eric several texts trying to get a reply. Apparently, he was still upset about the incident from a couple days ago, not that Dean could blame him really. While waiting for Eric’s to text back he kept flipping back over to Cas’ text, as if it would change if he closed it out and reopened it enough times. It didn’t. 

He had probably lost Cas and now he has lost his best friend too. And all over some stupid cheating whore. 

Dean didn’t know what came over him but again he found himself in the car headed to nowhere. After about an hour of driving around, he found himself in front of Eric’s house. Maybe if he could tell Eric about his encounter with Donnie he wouldn’t be so pissed, because really he dodged a bullet. He hesitated outside the door, trying to get up the courage to knock. Finally, he knocked tentatively and ducked to the right. He was afraid that if Eric saw him through the peephole he might not answer.

Finally, the door swung open and Eric was standing in front of him wearing dark blue jeans and a black tee shirt that was just a little too tight on him. Suddenly Dean’s explanation got caught in his throat. 

“What?” Eric asked, obviously already annoyed by Dean’s presence. 

“I, uh, wanted to talk to you. You weren’t answering my texts so…”

“That was on purpose.”

Dean felt a pang of hurt in his chest. So Eric really was avoiding him.

“I just wanted to say sorry for the other night. I didn’t mean for that to happen, I was really drunk and-”

“You cock blocked me, dude! You’ve been trying to get with Donnie for over a year, you just wanted to make sure we didn’t hook up.”

Dean stepped closer to Eric, anger flaring in his chest. When has he ever tried to intentionally sabotage Eric? Never, that’s when. How could he think that Dean was that kind of friend after all these years? That’s bullshit, pure unadulterated bullshit. He’s always been there for Eric, always been willing to be his wingman, help him through tough times, whatever he needed Dean was fucking there. 

“You’re the one who hooked up with someone you  _ knew _ I liked, then you’re going to accuse  _ me  _ of being a bad friend. No, and if you would have let me finish I would have told you that that was an accident, if I had minded I would have said something back at the bar when instead of being a decent friend and sticking around for me, you sent me home and picked a quick fuck over your best friend.” 

Eric looked stunned, Dean wasn’t sure if he’s ever gone off like that to Eric, but he’s also never felt so betrayed by him. Eric opened his mouth for what Dean expected to be and apology but instead, he just said, “piss off,” and started to shut the door. Dean wedged his foot in the doorframe and forced the door back open, pushing his way into the front room.

“I should piss off? I did you a favor, I ran into Donnie today and met his boyfriend. I probably just saved you from ten different STDs so how about a thank you.”

Eric closed the distance between him and Dean so that their chests were nearly brushing. Dean couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated by Eric who was several inches taller, but he refused to back down at this point on principal. “You didn’t know that at the time you dick.”

“Fine, maybe I didn’t but it was still an accident, how about a little forgiveness after all our years of friendship.”

“How about you make it up to me? Oh wait, you can’t.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean was beyond pissed off at this point.

“Yeah.”

Blinded by rage and determined to prove him wrong Dean grabbed a handful of Eric’s shirt and pulled him down to his level, placing his lips firmly on Eric’s. At first, Eric didn’t reciprocate, but he also didn’t pull away. Dean moved to the base of his neck and began to trail kisses upwards, across his jawbone, and finally right next to his lips. Dean was so thoroughly determined to prove him wrong that he didn’t even stop to think about what he was doing. When Dean reached the corner of his lips Eric finally caved and turned his head slightly so that their lips were making full contact. Dean had never kissed anyone like this, it wasn’t gentle or precise, it was just sloppy and angry and kind of hot actually. 

Dean grabbed Eric by the shoulders and slammed him against the wall, closing the door with his foot as he did. Eric grunted and pulled away momentarily and growled, “oh no you don’t,” before wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and flipping their positions so that Dean’s back was pushed against the cool dark wall. Now it was Eric’s turn to be in control. He kissed Dean possessively, leaving bite marks and suction marks that would surely bruise by morning. Dean didn’t care.

For a while he was okay with this arrangement, Eric pinning him to the wall by his hips, but things were starting to get pretty heated, and he could tell that they were for Eric too. Remembering that he was supposed to be the angry one Dean thrust his palms into Eric’s chest, shoving him away. Eric tried to come back in but Dean wouldn’t allow it. He pushed Eric farther back toward what he remembered to be his bedroom. As they reached the door Dean seamlessly leaned forward and opened it. Understanding what was going on Eric infuriatingly refused to be pushed back any farther. Instead, he roughly grabbed Dean’s arms and shoved him back onto the bed. 

Dean watched as Eric pulled his shirt over his head and discarded it onto the floor. He got as far as undoing the buckle on his belt before Dean remembered himself and pulled Eric by the loops of his jeans onto the bed. He toppled so ungracefully that he nearly slid off the bed. Dean rolled away so that Eric would have to get all the way onto the bed to reach him quickly. As soon as he was all the way up Dean pinned his arms to the mattress and began to work his way from Eric’s mouth down over his now bare chest until he reached the waistband of his jeans. 

Dean pulled his own shirt off over his head and threw it in the general direction that Eric threw his. “You’re still an asshole,” he muttered as he began to undo the button on Eric’s jeans. 

“Not more than you, dick.”

 

**********

 

When he woke up the next morning Dean nearly forgot where he was until he felt the pressure of a warm body next to him. Oh god, he had sex with Eric last night. It was good, very good actually, but it was with  _ Eric _ . Dean had never thought about Eric that way, even though they were close friends, even though they were both gay. He always just seemed too goofy and immature. He still seems too goofy and immature. 

Something tugged at the back of Dean’s mind, something like guilt. He thought of Cas. He thought about how Eric had kissed Cas a while back in Changes. The thought that him and Dean had tasted the same lips somehow made it so much better and so much worse at the same time. He had never even met Cas face to face yet he still felt like he had betrayed him somehow. 

And what about his friendship with Eric? The sex was good but he didn’t want to date the guy or anything, though maybe this meant he had to out of obligation. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Eric, but things got heavy very quickly the night before and there wasn’t really any going back now. 

Dean pretended he was still sleeping when he felt Eric roll over beside him. He could hear him shift around, groan, and finally get up and leave the room. A few seconds later the sound of running water came from the bathroom, presumably Eric taking a shower. 

Dean got up and scooped his clothes up off the floor. He winced as he put his shirt on. He had forgotten about the scratch marks on his back from the night before and they were now sizable red welts streaking up and down his back. 

Not knowing what else to do he stumbled into the kitchen to try to make some coffee. Unfortunately, Eric’s coffee maker looked nothing like the one Dean had at his apartment. It looked like one of those Keurig brewers which make individual cups of coffee from little plastic packets but the packs were nowhere in sight. Determined to get his morning intake of coffee in he began to shuffle through cabinets and drawers. Right as he was looking in one of the lower drawers under the microwave Dean felt a firm smack on his ass and he jumped. He quickly turned around, suddenly feeling indignant.

“Morning sexy, hope you slept well last night.” Eric was standing in front of him with his hair dripping wet and nothing more than a towel around his waist.

Dean tried to act cool about it but he could already feel himself blushing. “I was looking for the little packet things to make coffee. Where the hell do you keep them?”

Eric reached into a cupboard Dean had just searched through moments before and reached behind a box of macaroni and cheese to reveal a bag of coffee packets. He loaded one into the machine and placed a chipped mug under the dispenser to catch the glorious liquid as it brewed. 

Eric sauntered out of the room and came back a moment later fully clothed as Dean was taking his first sip of coffee. There was a long while when neither of them said anything. Dean focused intently on his coffee and Eric aggressively flipped through some social media feed. Eventually, Dean spoke up. 

“So, what does this mean?”

Eric looked up from his phone. “You mean the sex?”

Dean shot Eric his best bitch face. “Yes Eric, the sex.”

Eric smirked. “It means that you don’t owe me one anymore. You’re a free man Dean-o.”

Dean huffed in frustration and took an angry sip of coffee. “I’m being serious Eric, we need to talk about this. We need to make sure that we’re on the same page about everything.”

“Well I’m not much of the dating type, but you knew that already. So there’s only two ways we can go with this, we can be friends, or we can be friends with benefits.” Eric ran his hand through his still damp hair and chuckled. “I can’t say I would be opposed to getting another piece of that sweet ass you got.”

Dean began to study his shoes so that he wouldn’t have to meet Eric’s eyes. This really was just a whirlwind thing, he barely even knew how it had happened. Him and Eric had been friends for years, and Dean didn’t want anything about their friendship to change (although it may’ve been too late for that already.) And then there was Cas. It may be stupid or naive, but somehow Dean wanted to save himself for Cas. It was crazy really, he had never seen him, and on top of that, he drove him out of his own home and into the arms of his abusive ex. Cas would never forgive him for that. Dean would never forgive himself for that. Cas bore his soul to him and he rejected him. Still, even if whatever kind of relationship he had with Cas couldn’t be salvaged, Dean didn’t want anything in his life that could possibly stand in the way of that. 

“I think I want to just be friends Eric if you feel like you can do that.”

Eric nodded. “It’s probably for the best, I don’t think you could handle me on a regular basis, you barely held up last night.”

Dean punched Eric in the shoulder playfully. “I don’t think I was the one who was low on stamina ass hole.” 

“Shut up.”

Dean was in the middle of thinking up another witty retort when he heard his phone beep from his pocket. He pulled it out and checked the screen, one word flashed back at him that made Dean go cold and fill with joy at the same time.  _ Cas. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while since the last update. I hope you guys are still with us and enjoyed this new chapter. We get to know more about Dean! I personally loved this Dean chapter because we get to learn more about him and we see little Sammy. I find him so adorable. So, let us know what you thought and perhaps how you felt about newcomers John and Sammy. Thank you for reading! :)


	12. Cas (Day after incident)

When he woke the following morning, Cas’ entire body ached as if he had gotten trampled by a herd of elephants. The simple act of rolling over became a trialing act of overwhelming agony. His mind couldn’t focus on anything other than the burning sensation in his bones as he stretched his legs over the side of the mattress. Eventually, he was able to gather up enough strength to sit in an upright position, rather than in the hunched state he had been in. Gritting his teeth against a flare of pain that went up to his ribcage. For a moment, he was able to push aside the aches in his body and take in his surroundings. Having forgotten that he wasn’t at his own apartment, but was indeed in a guest room at his brother’s house.

A medium sized dresser, that was opposite of the side of the bed, was centered on the far right wall. A desk was placed at the head of the room. To Cas, the bedroom felt overall bare to him and almost foreign. Memories from the day before had yet to take place in his mind, having already repressed many of the events, but the barrier he had put up wouldn’t hold forever. He did remember breaking down in front of his brother and acting foolishly. He, however, did not remember completely what had happened before being taken to this house. A flash here and there of something fuzzy and hardly clear enough for Cas to get a grasp of what exactly had happened to him. Part of his mind refused to think back. Almost as if it wanted to protect itself from reliving last night’s horrid nightmare.

Cas scrubbed his hands against his face. His fingers running along the cut across his cheek. A low hiss escaping him as the wound seemed to burn against his fingertips. When he pulled his hands away from his face, he saw that there was a small smear of blood on his index finger. Fucking great, he thought before clenching his teeth once more as he got up from the bed. His knees and legs screaming out in protest, causing him to nearly collapse back onto the bed. He was able to stop himself from falling when his hand grasped the corner edge of a nightstand. Cas took a few steadying breaths in hopes of gaining control of his pain. Having to grind his teeth together to stop any sounds from escaping his mouth. The last thing he wanted was to alert Balthazar when all he’d done was try to stand up.

Just as he thought himself ready to take a few steps towards the door and get to a bathroom, a loud vibration noise came from behind him, making Cas turn suddenly around. His rib ached dully in protest to the quick movement, causing Cas to wince and instinctively reach for his side. When he looked down at the table, he wanted to smack himself. It was only his phone alerting him of a text message. Cas nearly ignored it. Meant to turn back around and go back to making his way to the bathroom, but something made him reach down and pick up the phone. He swiped his thumb against the lock screen and went to the text notification. It wasn’t a number he recognized and he almost set his phone back down when he caught sight of the words beneath the bar that read the phone number.  

_Cas, this is Dean, your brother told me something happened to you. Something with Jorge? Please message me back and let me know you’re okay. I’m so sorry for freaking out and leaving you._

Cas’ mind refused to acknowledge the mention of his ex’s name. He could feel it prod against the wall that he didn’t want to see come down and he downright refused for it to crumble.

Scanning over the rest of the text for the second time, Cas felt no urge to delve into what happened. He didn’t want to remember, let alone tell Dean about it when he had been the one to leave the second Cas approached the subject of emotions. He didn’t want to see what Dean’s reaction would be to what he had gone through.

After a bit of thinking on how to word out his response without coming off too hostile, Cas typed out, _I really can’t talk to you right now Dean_ , and hit send.

It wasn’t but a few seconds later, towards the time that Cas started to put his phone into his back pocket, that his phone buzzed again. With a quick glance at the screen, he read, _I understand. If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me_. And although Cas wanted to believe that the words were true, he couldn’t find it in himself to accept them as anything less than meaningless words. Part of him felt guilty for thinking that way and the other reminded him of why he was in this room, to begin with. Hadn’t he opened up to Dean just to get shut down? That’s not fair, his rational side spoke up. It wasn’t that Castiel didn’t know this. He was well aware of it being a tad bit selfish to blame this on Dean, and in complete honesty, Castiel laid no blame on him at all. It was on himself, but the thought of Dean also poked and chipped at the barrier. To Cas, no matter the action being selfish, Dean was too much of a reminder of what happened last night and he wasn’t ready to face those memories.

                                                    

********

 

Once he had found the bathroom, being only across the hall and two doors down, Cas bandaged up his cheek after cleaning up the bit of dried blood and slowly made his way out back into the hallway. Always aware of the pain that each step brought to his joints, but now it was safely muted in the back of his mind. As he drew closer to the end of the hallway, Cas started smelling a skunky scent. The smell only growing stronger as Cas kept walking until he hit the landing of the staircase. He could hear the faint sounds of music being played from somewhere downstairs. The flight of stairs would be murder to his aching legs, but Cas wanted to know what Balthazar was up to and to ask his brother why he had gone and given Dean his phone number in the first place.

Carefully making his way down the stairs, Cas held onto the railing tightly. The skin stretching across his knuckles turning an unhealthy shade of pale white. He managed to only make a muffled grunt when he took the last step off the stairs. Down here, the smell of skunk was unbearably stronger and Cas could also smell a tinge of something floral. It smelled like the family bathroom during Thanksgiving, and Cas had to laugh a little at that before going back to wondering what Balthazar could possibly be doing.

He followed the sound of music, passing by another bathroom on his way down a short hallway, and stopped at the last door where the origin of music seemed to be coming from.

“Balthazar?” He called out over the music.

There was a brief moment of scuffing sounds coming from the room and a stumble before the door opened fully to reveal his brother wearing a lazy grin. The open door also released more of the potent scent that had been the source of Cas’ curiosity. It took him two seconds to piece everything together from Balthazar’s dilated eyes to the origin of where the smell was coming from. It was a bong sitting on the table. Wisps of gray smoke were still swirling out from the top of it. Cas could just barely see it over his brother’s shoulder, but there was no mistaking what it was, not when Cas had seen his fair share of bongs and pipes at parties and dorm rooms when he’d gone to college. The only thing that stumped him was the intensity of the foul smell. He had smelled pot that had been a bit skunky or quite frankly smelt like weeks old garbage, but this weed, however, stunk of vomit and of something else that had rotted and had been overgrown with mold long ago. Why the hell is he smoking this shit? Cas wondered before he blurted out the question. Balthazar responded to his question with a lazy grin that was followed by a low chuckle.

Raising his eyebrows, Cas waited for a verbal response to come and rolled his eyes when Balthazar remained to stare at him hazily. “Seriously, Balthazar, how can you even stand the smell?”

“Because once you’re as high as I am, you can’t even smell it, little brother. I thought it was just some shitty weed too, but the dealer was right, it gives you the best high that no other weed has ever given you before. Just try it Cassie, and you’ll see for yourself.” His words came out slow and elongated. It made it difficult for Cas to listen to him without feeling the urge to smile or laugh. And he was still a tinge bit upset with his brother lending out his contact information to Dean.

“I don’t want to get stoned, Balthazar. I want to know why you gave out my phone number to Dean without my knowing and then didn’t even bother to tell me that you gave it to him,” Cas said, not bothering to keep out the edge of anger that had crept up into his voice. His brother remained unfazed.

“Loosen up Cassie. How’d you find out about that anyway?” Balthazar kept his tone light and as easy as his smile while he turned back around and made his way to the table where the bong was.

Cas restrained himself from shouting at him. It wouldn’t do any good with the state of mind his brother was in and he knew not a single word would get through to him, so he opted for the simpler route.

“I know you must’ve given it out because Dean texted me earlier today saying that he wanted to make sure I was okay. Not only did you tell him my phone number, but you told him I was in trouble too? I thought you considered him some creepy dude living next to me and all of a sudden you’re giving out my personal information to him?”

He saw his brother shake his head and plop down onto a light blue bean bag while reaching for the glass bong. Cas continued to stand at the entrance with an air of agitation surrounding him. Bringing up Dean was hard enough for him to do. Getting waved off by his brother did little to ease his frustration.

“You just going to stand there like a loner or come in here? There’s enough bud for the both of us.” With a swipe of his thumb, Balthazar flicked on the lighter he got from his pocket and hovered his mouth over the top of the bong while the hand holding the lighter lowered towards the weed held in the bowl.

Castiel watched as water bubbled within the bong. His eyes traveling with the smoke as it rolled up the glass tube towards where his brother’s lips hovered. Although he had seen people get high, he’d never been one to partake in any of it. He couldn’t afford to back then. Not if he had wanted to keep his scholarships and by doing that meant late night studying for tests. He didn’t have that excuse to hide behind now though, and he found himself curious as to what the experience would be like.

He was jerked out of his thoughts by Balthazar’s harsh coughs. His shoulders seemed to shake with the force of them and when he lifted his head to look up at Cas, his eyes were watered, and yet, the lazy smile remained on his lips as a few more short coughs escaped through him.

“Come on, Cassie,” he said. Lifting the bong out towards Castiel. “Just one little hit.”

With a long and heavy sigh, Cas reluctantly nodded his head and walked into the room. He shut the door behind him. Taking a look around the room, he noticed the stereo system in the corner that was now playing a much softer tune than before. He also saw two pinball machines standing next to each other against the left wall. One themed as the movie from Jaws and the other of The Doors. When he got closer to his brother, he couldn’t help but see a large amount of chip bags surrounding the area from which Balthazar sat. The majority of them being Dorito bags. A half-full liter of Mountain Dew was perched near one of these bags. A box of Lucky Charms cereal laid on its side on the floor next to the table, and next to it was a bowl that only contained the rainbow marshmallows. On the opposite side of the table from where Balthazar sat was a few more bean bags. It wasn’t until Cas looked up a bit more, that he saw the many posts it notes scattered around haphazardly on the walls. Each showing a sketch drawing or boldly written letters. One of them showed a rough drawing of Mr. Clean with biceps the size of Popeye's, and underneath it read: Mr. Clean, but sexy.  

“You have got to be kidding me,” Cas found himself muttering without notice of the words even leaving his mouth. If Balthazar had heard him speak, he made no comment about it. Instead, he continued to hold out both the bong and lighter towards Cas. An expectant look in his eyes.

He took both objects out of his brother’s hand while mumbling, “Just one hit and then I want you to tell me exactly why you gave out my information to Dean.”

It was only a few seconds after Cas released the smoke he’d been holding down in his lungs that he began coughing. His throat burned dully with each grating cough that couldn’t be contained and his eyes started to water with the force of his hacking.

Balthazar merely laughed at him. Not at all holding back his teasing comments as Cas reached for the bottle of Mountain Dew and took a heavy drink off of it. Meanwhile, Balthazar picked up the bong from where Castiel had placed it once he’d started coughing, and lit up for another hit. Taking in the smoke with ease and blowing out the smoke without the slightest hint of a cough. Cas could see his smug smirk out of the corner of his eye.

“Shut up,” Cas grumbled. Moving over to a bean bag, he clumsily sat down onto it. There just never was a graceful way to sit on one of these things.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’ll tell ya about Dean, alright? When I went over to your place to get you some clothes and stuff, he came over and I think he was expecting to see you and—”

“Stop bullshitting me, Balthazar. Why the hell would Dean bother coming over anyway?” Cas couldn’t help but interrupt. The very idea of Dean wanting to see him sent a thrill through his body before being followed by a churn of his stomach.

Balthazar regarded him coolly before saying, “I didn’t ask, Cas. When he came over we exchanged a few words and it was after that he asked if he could speak to you. I figured you didn’t want to see him, but the guy looked desperate, ya know? And I kinda pitied him, so I gave him your phone number.”

Castiel felt a role of disbelief wrapped in rage sweep over him. He wanted to think that it was just the pot settling in and was messing with his hearing. Wanted to believe that his brother had not just said those words. Gave it to him out of pity? He felt his hands begin to quiver as he quietly seethed with anger. How could his brother do that to him?

“You just gave it to him because you felt sorry for him? You could’ve asked me. Hell, maybe you could have thought to tell him to mind his own business. He doesn’t care, Balthazar. He never did,” said Cas, heavy resentment ringing throughout his voice towards the end. He couldn’t hide it. He could try to block the memory, but he couldn’t hide how he felt when he was left alone. He knew he shouldn’t have opened up. Especially with how they had only known each other for a short time, Cas should’ve thought before he spoke and if he had the chance to go back, he wouldn’t repeat what he had said. Maybe then he could’ve kept a friendship with Dean. If friendship is something they even had. Cas highly doubted it at this point, but he would’ve preferred to kid himself into believing that Dean had wanted to be friends rather than find out the truth the way he had.

A shiver rolled through him as the memory of how it had felt to be left alone forced its way to his mind. It had slipped past the cracks in his barrier and another chill went up his spine. He felt as if he were being engulfed by the memory. Desperate to escape the feeling, Cas held out his hand towards Balthazar. The first hit he had taken did nothing for him and he couldn’t stand to keep feeling this abandonment any longer. It was only the beginning of what had happened once Dean had left and Cas wasn’t about to relive it.

“No, Cas, I think we ought to talk,” Balthazar said sternly. His brother had nearly been flat on his ass with how stoned he’d gotten, and yet in a split second, he appeared as sober as the day he was born. His gaze set on Cas’ face.

“No, we don’t. Just hand me the bong.”

“No.”

Castiel could see his brother wasn’t going to budge an inch.

“Look, Balthazar, I really don’t want to talk about last night and to be honest, I’d like to forget that it even happened. And since Dean is part of last night, I’m asking you to let this go,” Cas said in an attempt to reason with him, and although it may have been a futile attempt, he had to try. A part of him hoped Balthazar would just drop it. He regretted bringing up Dean, now.

“You can’t expect me to give in so easily. You’re my brother, Castiel. I was there for you when mom and dad divorced and neither parent was around anymore, I was there for you when you went through your first day of high school, when you went through your first break-up, when you got so drunk that you couldn’t drive home and I was the one who made sure to come get you. I was there when you needed me and I’m not about to stop now just because you tell me to.”  

“A guilt trip is not what I need right now, Balthazar. I realize it was hard for you to care for me when mom and dad separated. It was hard on all of us and I appreciate you always being there for me and continuing to still be here, but I really can’t talk about what happened. I need time Balthazar, please. I’m not saying I won’t ever tell you the full story, just not right now. Right now I just want a few laughs with you. Can you do that for me?” Cas knew he had put his brother in a hard place. He was forcing his brother’s hand and he was well aware of it, but he had no choice because the second he even started to think of that bar, he could feel the wall begin to crumble. It was weak enough as it was due to the mentioning of Dean.

It didn’t seem as if Balthazar was going to accept Cas’ words. He kept watching him with careful eyes as if Cas was going to break at any second, and as he kept searching for a sign of weakness, Castiel made sure to keep all that he was feeling hidden. It wouldn’t do to have his brother see how close he was to the edge of breaking down. After a few more seconds of silence, Balthazar seeking out a reason to deny his brother, and Cas maintaining his resolved composer, the older brother finally gave in.

“Fine,” he said. “I suppose after all you’ve been through, you deserve to relax, and if getting a bit high is the way you want to do it, who am I to tell you no? Just promise me that you’ll come to me when you’re ready to talk.”

Cas nodded his head and accepted the bong given to him. He felt a twinge of guilt for not telling his brother the events of last night. Out of everyone, Balthazar had every right to know the full story, given that he had been the one to save him, and yet, Cas couldn’t bring himself to change his mind on not telling his brother.

                                                   

********

 

“You can’t talk to him!” Balthazar exclaimed. Had he not been laughing his ass off, maybe Cas would’ve been able to take him seriously. Then again, he was too stoned out of his mind to take anything he said seriously.

A phone laid in the palm of his hand. His own phone to be exact, and it was opened to message Dean. He wanted to talk to him. After all that had occurred, Cas couldn’t stop himself from missing Dean. The intense longing to have even a small conversation with him, struck Cas senseless.

“Ssstop Balthy, I know what I am doing,” Cas spoke in a slow manner. All his words felt too long coming off his tongue and it was difficult to even remember what he was trying to do. The whole sensation made him laugh until he saw a hand come for his phone. “No!” He loudly protested. “I want to talk to him.” Cas hugged his phone close to his chest. He childishly stuck his tongue out at his brother before dissolving into more laughter. There was no way for him to keep a straight face.

“Go on and talk to him then. See if you can even type an actual message,” Balthazar said with an edge of a taunt in his voice. Cas rose to the challenge.

“I will and you just watch me.”

He held out his phone and tried to focus on the screen. Most of the letters on the keyboard he could barely see. He refused to let his brother be right though and he squinted his eyes to get a better view of the keyboard. It only worked to allow him to see a few half-dozen letters. The rest remained to be a smudgy blur. Cas got stuck on how weird the smudgy shapes looked and couldn’t help but wonder what could have made them look that way. Throughout his struggle, Balthazar got up and walked over to one of the pinball machines.

It was during around the middle of Balthazar’s second game session that Castiel fully gave up on ever seeing the full keyboard, and decided to work with the letters that were given to him. With his head swimming in a haze and his body feeling light as a balloon, _or maybe even a feather_ , he thought, chuckling. Cas began to type out his message.

_Deen Ivm sorr for what I sed and bein s bother Ivm stoned is hell right neow lol Ivm never relized how gret doritos tsste no need to be worried bout me Belthy is good._

Cas scanned over the sentences with a goofy grin on his face. He didn’t bother fighting autocorrect or the fact that he couldn’t use the letter A, and he also didn’t bother to think of scrapping the message altogether when maybe he would’ve if he were sober. He wasn’t in the right state of mind, though, he was gleefully stoned, and his text didn’t appear to be too bad. At least to him, it didn't seem that way. Just as his brother looked over his shoulder towards him, Cas’ thumb hit send.

“I sent him a text, Balthy. What do you have to say to that?” Cas asked in his slow way of speaking. His eyelids drooping closed with tiredness.

“Just hope it’s not something you regret later,” said Balthazar. “And don’t be mad at me later either. I tried taking your phone away and you got pissy.”

“You’re pissy,” Cas said with all the maturity level of a five-year old and rolled onto his side while giggling.

Cas didn’t get to see Balthazar roll his eyes or see him place a blanket over his body because he had fallen into a deep sleep not long after rolling over and a smile remained on his lips. He didn’t hear his brother say, “G’night, sleep well little brother.”

**********

 

In the morning, Cas woke up to the smell of bacon and coffee being made, and a stiff pain on his lower side. It was another chore of shifting onto his back with grunts to accommodate his movements. As he huffed in relief when weight was finally off his side and his body sagged more onto the bean bag, the back of his hand bumped against his phone that was starting to slip down behind his back. Reaching for it, he took care to move slowly to save himself from more pain, while also trying to remember the last thing he did last night. A passing thought on smudges was the last memory he could manage to pull up.

When he took his phone, he didn’t expect to see it pulled up to Dean’s contact on messenger, and he couldn’t remember using his phone last night. Cas attempted to search through foggy sections of the night before when his eyes scanned over the screen. Within a split second, his heart plummeted down to his stomach. A cold chill swept over his body when he saw more than just one text sent by Dean and his own short response. By then, Cas could remember the frustration and determination he had felt while texting this to Dean. _I can fix this_ , he thought. _I can delete it or….or what?_ His options were far to none. Maybe he’s already seen it and decided not to respond. Cas could deal with that theory and let himself relax again while still reassuring himself. It was perfectly fine for Dean not to respond. Cas would explain later if he ever got the chance, but not right now. There was something about the idea of having to talk to Dean that sent a flurry of panic throughout his system. Already, now, he could feel himself beginning to grow nervous at the very idea of having a conversation with him after what had transpired between them. The embarrassment alone caused by his overreaction was enough to make Castiel never want to talk to Dean again. His mind worked over the possibility of never having to talk to Dean, and slowly he began to relax. He didn’t want to see the questions that Dean would ask. He didn’t want to have to write about what happened with—Cas took a heavy breath and refused to even think the name, but it still hung in his subconscious like a snake ready to strike—Him, his mind settled on. That would be the name Castiel would use. It was better than having to use _his_ real name and have it be another thing to shake the wall in his mind. Having interaction with Dean was doing enough damage as it was.

Cas refocused when he heard Balthazar loudly singing out of tune. He decided to get up and see if he could stick a spatula into his brother’s mouth to get him to shut up and then maybe help out with breakfast. He looked down at his phone one last time. Three little dots were now present on the left side of the screen.

Cas’ heart sped up. He could nearly feel it beating in his throat as he stared down at his phone as if he were imagining it. A set of heavy rocks felt like they sunk down into Castiel’s stomach as all appetite dissipated.

In an attempt to calm his now churning stomach, he closed his eyes and took a slow, calming breath. This worked to calm himself down, but not nearly enough to want to open his eyes again until he heard his phone give out a buzz and felt its vibration in his hand. Cas froze and looked down at the text that had just appeared.

_You’re not a bother, and I was the one in the wrong for reacting the way I did after what you told me. I feel so goddamn bad about it Cas, I’m so sorry. You don’t have to forgive me though, I wouldn’t._

_Oh god_ , Cas thought. How was he supposed to respond? How would anyone respond this? He kept going over possible responses in his mind and even attempted to type out some of them, but all of them came out sounding lame. A simple ‘okay’ wasn’t something that someone would text back. ‘Hey, no worries, I’m an idiot for even saying anything’ Just didn’t seem like the best answer either.

“Are you going to join me for breakfast or keep staring down at your phone?” Balthazar’s question startled him out of his inner turmoil. He nearly dropped his phone. “Are you still stoned, man?” He heard his brother ask.

“No, but I wish I was right now,” Castiel said with a strained voice. He turned around, phone still in hand, and said, “I think I may need your help with this one.”

Balthazar tilted his head slightly and walked over to him. His eyes flickering down to the phone that Cas held.

“Need help with what?” He asked with suspicion in his voice. As if he already knew where this was going.

Cas licked his lips nervously.

“A text from Dean. He, uh, he replied to last night’s text.”

“He could actually read it?” Balthazar asked with a laugh.

Cas gave him an impatient look before saying, “Yes, and now he’s responded and I don’t know what to say. He said he was sorry and—” Cas stopped short when Balthazar held out his hand for the phone. “What?”

“I’ll have to read it if you want me to help you. I knew this would happen and I wasn’t going to help you because nothing good comes from drunk or stoner texts, but now you’ve gotten yourself all in a panic,” he said.

Castiel handed over his phone with a small tinge of reluctance. Watching Balthazar’s facial expressions change as he read through the short response. He heard him mutter, “Damn right he should be sorry,” and “Well at least he’s smart to assume that much.” Then Balthazar handed back the phone and sat down on a beanbag.

“So, what should I text back?”

“Tell him he was an idiot for how he acted.”

“Balthazar!”

“What? Was he not being one when he ran out on you? Come on, Cas. The guy said he was sorry and that you don’t even have to forgive him. Leave it at that. I don’t see why this calls for you to have to reply back.”

“Because he said he was sorry,” Cas argued even though it sounded like a weak excuse.

“And suddenly that makes everything okay again? Castiel, you’re smarter than this. Yes, he said he was sorry. That should be expected. Nothing in that text comes off as something you need to respond to. He says he feels bad for what he did? Then let him. Maybe the next time someone opens up to him, he won’t just fucking walk away.”

“But—” Cas was quickly interrupted.

“You’re stressing yourself out over someone that’s not even worth it. It just sounds like someone that wants to cover their ass and he did a fine job of that. Leave it be, Cas,” Balthazar said sternly. He rose up from the bean bag and headed out the door. “Breakfast is ready if you want to eat.”

Castiel watched his brother walk out of view before he looked down at his phone again. Regardless of what Balthazar had advised, there was no way for him to outright ignore the text. And although the text may have been sent in pity or a way to get out of the situation, Cas still couldn’t bring himself to simply stop talking to Dean.

 _I appreciate your apology Dean_ , Cas typed. _It wasn’t the greatest experience but then I overreacted too and you shouldn’t be at fault for that. I shouldn’t have even sent that text last night._ He hit send before he could chicken out and delete the entire message. He then walked to the kitchen, following the smell of bacon, and found Balthazar sitting at the island counter with a plateful food in front of him and another plate placed across from him.

“You replied didn’t you?”

Cas tried to fight back a blush and kept his head down as he made his way over to his plate. He didn’t have to look up to know that his brother was frowning.

“Why even ask me for help if you don’t do what I advise you to do? I mean, if I knew you were just going to ignore what I said, I wouldn’t have tried helping. Why—” The buzz of Cas’ phone interrupted Balthazar.

Cas looked up momentarily to see his brother’s look of distaste. His brows furrowed further when Castiel looked down towards his phone.

“That him again?” he asked dryly.

“So what if it is?”

“Because he acted like a complete fucking douche and it’s great that he feels sorry for it. Points to him for acknowledging his stupidity. That doesn’t mean you go and forgive him. That you go on to have a conversation. I don’t want you to get hurt again because _Dean_ can’t handle a situation like a human being.”

“I won’t get hurt again.”

“And how can you know that for sure?” Balthazar said with anger rising in his voice.

“Because I know him.”

Two hands smacked down onto the counter. Cas jumped in his seat at the sound and wasn’t prepared for the amount of rage that was rolling of his brother. He shrank into the bar stool as Balthazar shoved himself out of his seat and quickly walked over to him. He didn’t have enough time to move off the chair and make an escape. Balthazar was already inches away from his face. Cas wanted to look away from those glowering eyes, but he was stuck in a trance of fear and shock.

“Stop acting like an idiot, Castiel. You supposedly knew him that day he ran out on you and look where that led. I refuse for you to put yourself back into that situation again. We’ve been down this road before and I nearly lost you. I’m not letting you do this to yourself again.”

“That was different,” Cas said barely above a whisper.

“Uh huh, and how different is Dean really from Jorge? You thought you knew Jorge too. You swore to me that you could trust him. Yet here we are and you’re still making the same dumbass mistakes for another guy that you haven’t even seen!”

“Stop. I don’t want to hear this.” Cas’ body was beginning to tremble with resentment towards Balthazar for bringing up Jorge and using him as a weapon to win a fucking argument. He didn’t care to be reminded of his past mistakes. He didn’t care to be yelled at like a naive child.

“You wouldn’t have to hear this if you weren’t acting like a fucking idiot. I’m not going to stand here and act like this is all okay and that everything is rainbows and sunshine when just two days ago I saw you lying on the ground, hardly conscious, and a guy that you had once trusted towering over you, getting ready to-”

“How dare you fucking throw that in my face! I didn’t get trapped there on my own free will. I didn’t choose to be beaten to hell. I don’t need you to remind me of what happened! All you talk about is how it affected _you_ . What you saw. How the fuck do you think I felt?” Cas pushed back at his brother as he got up from the bar stool. He was beyond angry at having Jorge used against him. Having Balthazar describe what he had seen was enough to push Cas over the edge. The wall that he had up was crumbling faster than he could rebuild it, and behind it were the memories. Flashes of what had happened became more vivid. He could nearly feel the cold, clammy fingers clamping down onto his arms, shoving him back onto the bed. _No, please god no_. Cas fought against those memories. He didn’t want to relive that nightmare. “It’s all your fault!” Cas yelled before he could stop himself. It was Balthazar’s fault for these memories coming back . His fault for why Cas was now a mess. He was still trembling, but not fully in anger now. He felt unnaturally cold as each memory kept crashing down onto him.

He saw Balthazar reach out for him, but he managed to step out of his grasp.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Cas….” Balthazar attempted to reach for him again.

“Don’t!” He shouted. Scrambling over to the open archway in the kitchen. Edging closer to the living room.

They stood like that for a couple minutes. Cas looking ready to flee at any indication of movement and Balthazar with his arms held out and his expression one of anguish.

“I didn’t mean— ” Cas quickly cut Balthazar off.

“I know what you meant. I don’t want your apology.”

“But you’ll accept one from a stranger?” Balthazar asked in a flat voice.

“Goodbye, Balthazar.” Cas turned on his heel and didn’t bother to look back when he heard his brother call out for him to wait. He almost made it out the door when Balthazar grabbed onto his wrist and jerked him back into the house.

“Please. I won’t apologize if you don’t want to listen to me, but don’t leave the house like this.”

“Let me go.”

“Castiel, please.” Balthazar kept his hold on Cas.

He tore away from his brother’s grip and slammed the door behind him. He hurried down the porch steps and when he had walked a good distance away from the house, he remembered the source behind the fight. His damn phone. He took it out of his pocket now and looked down at the notification that indicated he had a new message. He tapped on it and began to read the message.

_No, there is no excuse for what I did, it’s all my fault. Are you ever going to come home?_

_I don’t know_ , Cas typed. _I’m still trying to figure everything out and I’m still not sure if I can deal with being home right now or if I can trust you. I’m sorry, and I know I laid too much on you at once and I don’t want to end up doing that again. I’m not even sure if it’s a good thing that we’re even talking._

He felt bad for how he phrased his message, however, he was still terribly upset and shaken from the fight he’d gotten in with Balthazar. He was still pushing away memories from the night with Jorge, but some still managed to get through and he could remember the malicious gleam in Jorge’s dark eyes as he stalked towards him with a belt in his right hand. His body shook and he nearly screamed when a car backfired and broke him out his daze. Going home no longer seemed like such a bad idea. His phone buzzed again and Cas looked down expecting to see it be another text from Dean, but it was just Balthazar calling him. He let it go to voicemail and went on walking down the sidewalk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it was a long wait for this chapter but I hope you guys find that it was worth it :) Check out sapphic_writer, she writes awesome Supernatural fanfiction and she has one up right now that is fantastic. I highly recommend it for you destiel readers. She has significantly helped write this story, it would not be what it is now without her. She, in fact, helped with many ideas in this chapter including Balthazar's 'stoner' room. We both had a laugh about that one when creating it. We hope you enjoyed this chapter and please feel free to comment and let us know what you think.


	13. Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready to listen to some classic rock. For this chapter, I recommend listening to Every Rose Has Its Thorn by Poison. It really fits the mood and it is what inspired this scene. I know this chapter was a bit late. I had a bit of trouble getting onto some wifi, but happy belated Christmas! and we hope this chapter brightens your holidays :)

Dean stared down at the text on his phone. He knew he should be working on the pile of order forms and other paperwork stacked on his desk or helping Brian teach Frankie how to change a timing belt but that stupid goddamn text just kept staring him down. Cas couldn’t trust him. And the worst part was that Dean knew he was right. He had fucked up everything, in the span of a few hours he had destroyed Cas emotionally and physically. And to add to that he felt like he had betrayed Cas by sleeping with Eric like he somehow had a responsibility to save himself for Cas despite the fact that they weren’t dating in the first place. Maybe it just had to do with what Cas said, it made him feel like he needed to protect him. And the fact that Cas wasn’t even sure himself if or when he might be coming home made it even worse. Finally, Dean just typed back a simple you do what you need to do, set his phone in his desk drawer so he didn’t have to look at the damned thing, and got back to work.

                                                ********** 

Dean paced around his apartment wondering what exactly he should do with himself. He briefly visited Samson after work and that made him feel a bit better (despite John being in just the other room). He didn’t feel like he could talk to Eric, and it was Stacy and Viv’s date night so he couldn’t go hang out with them either. Eventually, he settled on absentmindedly strumming at his guitar. He started with a couple beginner tunes, singing whatever song came to mind. Eventually, he settled on singing a song his mother used to hum sometimes as she tended to her flowerbeds.

“I know I could have saved a love that night If I’d known what to say; instead of makin’ love, we both made our separate ways. But now I hear you found somebody new, and that I never meant that much to you. To hear that tears me up inside, and to see you cuts me like a knife. I guess every rose has its thorn, just like every night has its dawn, just like every cowboy sings his sad song. Every rose has its thorn,”

At this point Dean realized the tear rolling down his face. He quickly wiped it away and set his guitar back on the stand.

“Um, hey Dean.”

Fuck. Cas heard that. Fuuuck. He wondered how much Cas had listened to and if maybe they could pretend like that whole song didn’t just happen.

“Cas, you’re home.”

“Yeah, I uh, I decided that being home was the best place for me right now. Plus, I need to get back to a routine, you know, and to start working at the flower shop again.”

“Listen, I’m really freaking sorry for running out on you like that. I just haven’t had anyone open up to me in a long time and I didn’t know how to react and I’m really stupid.”

There was a pause on the other side of the wall. Dean crawled onto his creaking bed and pressed his ear to the cool plaster of the wall.

“It's okay, Dean. I shouldn't have...look, I don't blame you for leaving. I should've never laid so much stuff on you. And I can’t believe that my fucking brother barged in here and told you about Jor—”

Cas stopped abruptly and Dean could feel the tension from the other side of the wall. He let the silence stand pregnant between them for several heartbeats before he broke it.

“Look, I’m not the biggest fan of your brother, but I’m glad you have someone looking out for you. It might seem like a pain in the ass to have someone care so much, but when it’s gone you’re going to miss it, trust me.”

“He had no right coming in here and harassing you. He acts blindly and causes chaos, and expects me to be okay with it. Well, I’m not fucking okay with it. I’m not okay with him bulldozing his way into my problems and making decisions for me. I shouldn’t have to be concerned about whether or not he’s going to give out my information when I’ve got so much shit happening that I don’t know where to turn anymore. I thought I could trust him and he threw it all in my face.”

A blaze of anger flared up in Dean’s chest like a reflex.

“Your brother was taking care of you Cas, he gave enough of a shit to come over here and try to plow over the first guy he saw for you and to go get you from Jorge’s house and I’m sure he would do it all again. And you go and put yourself in a situation where you were in danger; you have people that care about you Castiel. Don’t you dare take that for granted. Don’t you dare throw that away.” Dean could feel his cheeks flushed, every muscle in his face wound tight as if trying to keep him from falling to pieces.

“You honestly think I wanted to be taken against my will? That I purposely sought out to be trapped and wanted my brother to go through the hell that he did to come to save me? I know where I would be without Balthazar, you don’t have to tell me, but I have a right to be pissed when someone tries to manipulate me with my own faults. How would you like it, Dean, if I used every mistake you made against you in an argument? Better yet, someone, you trusted? No, you don’t get to be pissed at me for how I feel.”

“I don’t think you knew exactly what would happen, not that I even know what happened, but I think you knew it wouldn’t go well. I think you’re self-destructive. You’re not always the victim Cas, you can tell yourself that you are every day of your life and you can keep ruining things for yourself and pushing people away but in the end, all you’re doing is spinning your wheels and going nowhere.”

Dean suddenly felt deflated, all of the anger rushed out of him and curled into the wall separating them.

“You’re right...I’m so sorry for bringing all this bullshit on you. I’m twenty-five, I should be able to handle this better. I don’t know why I went to a damn bar other than I couldn’t stand to be surrounded by silence. That wasn’t me. I don’t do that because this is exactly what my mother does, and yet...fuck I can’t keep doing this. Balthazar didn’t say anything that wasn’t true and it pissed me off. And now I basically just had a tantrum. I’m sorry, Dean.”

“I’m sorry too. I’ve been waiting all this time for you to come back and now here you are and I need to go and act like a dick. I’m probably not the best authority to tell other people that they’re being distant anyway. I just know that if my brother was still around I would hope he could understand if I was was a bit overprotective.”

His mind drifted to Samson giggling and climbing over the play equipment with the other kids. Maybe he needs to let the past be the past. This John was not the same John that got into the accident. He wasn’t the same man who let his anger stalk the halls like a hungry wolf looking for any life to consume and who drank to try to fill in the gaps in its stomach.

“What happened to your brother? I remember you mentioned him once.”

Dean flinched. He had never told many people about the accident, even after all these years buffering him against the distant memories. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to expose himself to Cas, but he had trusted him with the intimate details of his abusive relationship and his brother’s death. Who could better understand?

“He died along with my mother. It was my dad’s fault, he was driving wasted. I was 17.”

Dean couldn’t bear to go into any more detail. Even just laying out that much left his head swimming in a fog.

“I’m sorry, Dean. No one should have to deal with that shit. People like that...they belong in jail.”

“He did go to jail, 2-year sentence. Not long enough. By the time the charges went through I was 18 anyway so I didn’t go into the system, I just couch surfed and lived on the street for a while.”

“Couldn’t imagine living on the streets... That’s so fucked up, two years isn’t long enough for something like that. God, I’m sorry Dean. He’s an asshole for what he did.”

“Yeah…” Suddenly Dean didn’t feel like going into the more intimate details of his younger life. He felt drained from sharing just the basic facts, nevermind how he felt about them or how his father acted the rest of the time. Dean decided to do what he did best and redirect the conversation.

“Anyway, I’m glad you’re home Cas, really. I missed you.”

“I missed you too. I’m sorry for how I acted. That wasn’t how I wanted things to go when I got home. All I could think about when walking here was what I was going to say to you, and I completely messed it up by reverting back into a brat. I did like that song that you were singing though. I’ve heard it played on the radio once or twice.”

Dean blushed and knotted his hands nervously together. So he had heard that.

“It’s just something I was trying to learn the chords to, but thanks.”

“You’re welcome. That lyric ‘was it something I said or something I did. Did the words…”

“‘...not come out right. Though I tried not to hurt you, though I tried.’ That’s one of my favorite parts.” Dean smiled out of the corner of his mouth while hoping that Cas wouldn’t notice how much the lyrics pertained to their situation.

“I think it’s becoming my favorite too. You’ve corrupted me, ya know. I never used to really like that kind of music till I heard you playing it.”

“I’ll try to play more often then.” Was he flirting? Is this flirting?

“I do enjoy your singing. Maybe you should sing some Alvis sometime.”

Dean chuckled, racked his brain for an Elvis song, and sang the beginning of the first one he could think of. ‘“When we kiss my heart's on fire, burning with a strange desire, and I know each time I kiss you that your heart's on fire too.’”

“Didn’t think you’d know Surrender. It’s one of his older songs; I thought you would only know the popular ones.”

“Well, you know me, I’m a true hipster at heart.”

“I can imagine. What do you wear, a beanie and a denim jacket? Some ripped up jeans and maybe a scarf with a big lumberjack beard?”

Dean glanced at his closet, full to the brim with flannels and levis.”I would call my wardrobe more standard.”

“Oh really? So just the flannel and t-shirt then.”

“Basically. I’m real fashion savvy.”

“Sounds like it. I’m a sweater kind of guy myself. I’ve never known fashion. It’s getting kinda late and I know I’ve got to get to the store by 7 tomorrow. I think I’m going to head to bed.”

Dean yawned loudly and laid back on his pillow. “It’s been good talking to you. Night Cas.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for continuing to follow this story and we hope you enjoyed this newest chapter! The next update won't take so long I promise. Feel free to comment and let us know what you think :)


	14. Cas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys you've got to listen to this song for this chapter. It's super cute, it's by Elvis, and it's related to this chapter. Here's the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3rQEbQJx5Bo  
> It's called All Shook Up.

Cas woke up with a scratchy throat the next morning. At first, it wasn’t too painful and he hoped it would go away as he went through his morning routine, but by the time he poured himself a cup of coffee he felt like a million razor blades had just scrapped their way down his throat. Drinking coffee only made it worse. If Cas could describe the sensation, it would be that he felt as if he were chugging down a gallon of hot lava. In the end, he dumped the rest of the coffee down the sink, made an attempt to sip some water, and when that caused a sharp pang of irritation to erupt from his throat, Cas gave up on the idea of drinking anything today.

He made himself up a sandwich for lunch and made sure to bring a bottle of Dayquil with him just in case. When he patted his pockets, looking for his car keys, he started cursing under breath. He stood there for a couple seconds scanning the room wondering where he could’ve possibly left them. He didn’t have the energy to start moving everything around or to crawl around on the floor to look under the couch. His legs still gave him some trouble when he tried to move too quickly. It would cause waves of pain rising up as far as his torso and slamming down to his ankles. This left him with only with two options: hope that the keys were somewhere on the cluttered nightstand or walk all the way to the flower shop. Cas looked down at his wristwatch and saw it read 7:40. Both options left him being late to opening the shop. It was tempting to just crawl back into bed and try again tomorrow, but what if Balthazar decided to pay a visit? He would see Cas wasn’t there and start a whole nother search or be smug because he was right in thinking that Cas wasn’t ready to go back to his life. Balthazar would come to the apartment to see Cas either way and did he really want to have another round of arguing about Dean when Dean himself could possibly still be right next door?

Cas forced himself to search for his keys, letting out pitiful noises that could only be made by someone who was getting sick. He found them in the pockets of a pair of jeans that were strewn across the floor. It was 8:00 am. Already Cas felt like he’d done a day’s work and the fire in his throat raged on. He started noticing how his nose was becoming congested. His body ached whether standing or moving. He felt downright miserable and a bit pathetic.

“I just have to get through this day. I can do that. It won’t be that bad,” he muttered. He pushed himself to walk out the door, deciding against walking down the stairs. The elevator would be easiest and he hoped to god that the cute guy wasn’t there. He knew he looked like a mess having not bothered to tame his hair or think about the clothes he threw on.

He’d only seen the guy once— was it twice? — and he hadn’t been in the best of moods on either occasion. Cas didn’t feel like adding a third time of him appearing as if he’d just rolled out of a dumpster to the guy’s memory. It was silly of him to even be fretting about what the guy thought. Who was he to him? Absolutely nothing, but damn did he look fine each time Cas saw him. Maybe, if Cas saw him again, he would ask for his number. Just not today of all days.

_Please God, at least give me that_ , Cas thought, pushing the button for floor one. He stood waiting for a few seconds. It turned out luck was on his side. Then again maybe it wasn’t. He didn’t catch a glimpse of the guy who he was beginning to think of as Hottie McHotpants. His cheeks burned a little at the foolish nickname. He was thankful no one could read his mind or ever know about this school-boy crush. He would rather be faced with the spider from hell again than to have his thoughts about the guy out in the open. It was much better to have those few rare looks because he didn’t have to know the truth of what that guy thought of him or if he actually swung that way. If he did he was too damn attractive to give a single thought about Cas. At least he could still look from afar.

_Maybe I’m the stalker…_ Cas laughed at himself which led to him coughing into his elbow. He sniffled weakly and prayed that the day would not be a long one.

Cas walked into a store that showed its abandonment. He lost more money than he could possibly afford to lose due to his absence. Tons of flowers were dead, wilting away, drooping sadly with neglect. It took him half the day to clear out the shop, but fortunately, there were plenty of flowers left that could be saved. It would have to do for now. When it came around noon Cas felt weak with his legs quivering unsteadily with each step and his head swimming in a dizzy haze. He thought that with a bit of medicine and food that he would start to feel better, however, when he took the first bite from his sandwich he regretted it instantly. Cas’ stomach lurched alarmingly, churning dangerously almost to where he thought he would have to make a break for the closest trash can. He knew he wouldn’t be able to make it to the bathroom. Gradually, his stomach calmed a bit, but not enough to make Cas comfortable. He desperately wanted to go home and to be in his safe warm bed that offered security and privacy. He couldn’t bring himself to do it though. He had to stay for a while longer.

An hour passed when it got to be too much. Cas was pretty sure that he had a fever now. He couldn’t tell because his entire body felt hotter than a summer day in July. No amount of medicine made his sore throat tolerable. He felt dead on his feet and all he wanted was to be held while wrapped in a blanket. Being wrapped up in a blanket while lying on a lumpy mattress would have to do. Cas didn’t see anybody willing to hold him and if he let his fantasies carry on he would begin to wonder how good it would feel to have Hottie McHotpants’ arms holding him. Now that’s The life. He grinned lazily at the day-dream. Yeah, it sure would be great. He would be there at my apartment waiting with a pot of soup and our favorite record would be playing. He would take me in his arms and—

His phone vibrated, breaking Cas out his little dream. He glared grumpily at the screen, waiting for it to come on and show him who had messaged him. He had missed a call from Balthazar, must’ve happened when he was cleaning, and the newest notification showed a text from Dean. He didn’t let himself give any thought as to why he immediately grinned just from seeing his name appear. He read over the message.   
  
**Hey Cas, what’s up? :)**  
  
He felt warmth bloom in his stomach like a thousand butterflies were fluttering around inside him. He was nervous, but why? It was just Dean saying hi.   
  
**Stuck at work. I think I might be catching a cold and I feel like absolute crap. I can’t wait to be home. I hope that you’re having a better day than I am :)**   
  
He sent the message with a flurry of emotions inside him. None of which he gave attention to. It’s just Dean, he told himself. Maybe it’s just because of everything that happened. Cas left it as that and resumed doing what he had been doing before which was thinking of McHotpants. How would it go again? He would take me in his arms and hold me close, leading me to the couch where tea would be waiting at the table. I would snuggle close to him—   
  
The bell rang, alerting Cas to an incoming customer. It was an elderly woman with a cloud of white hair on the top of her head. She had a kind smile and came to him asking for a bouquet of tulips, telling him they were for her granddaughter. He went around getting the flowers for her and attempted some small talk.

“Is this for a special occasion?”

“Oh yes, I’m congratulating my granddaughter on her engagement. She’s to marry a delightful young man. You look a bit like him.”

“Do I?” Cas laughed. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It is! You’re a very handsome man. I’m sure a sweet young woman has snatched you up by now or will be soon.”

Cas paused and nearly dropped the bouquet of flowers. He’d heard these words a lot growing up from relatives and never missed the warning glare that his mother gave him right before he would respond. She didn’t want anyone in the family to know about him and he had gotten so used to the familiar response that he didn’t think twice when he said, “No. I’m always so busy. What with work and all.”

“What about a nice fellow? I’ve got a grandson about your age.”

Cas glanced over at her unsure if she was serious and saw her rummaging around in her purse. She shuffled towards him when she pulled out her wallet, opening it up and pulling out a small photo and holding it out to him. He was stunned. The guy in the photo had a lean figure, with dark short hair that was styled in a quiff, and cute brown eyes.

_He is nice to look at_ , Cas thought. And as he considered the option, the image of Hottie McHotpants flickered through his mind.

“Perhaps I’ll bring him around the next time I need flowers,” She said with a wink.

Cas chuckled, feeling his cheeks getting warm, and struggled to find a way to get out of the conversation. He brought her attention to the flowers asking her if they were the right color or if she wanted them to be set up a different way. Cas thought he was in the clear when she started walking out the door after purchasing the tulips when she turned around and said,   
“Maybe I’ll come around sometime next month. It will be my daughter’s birthday and she adores carnations.”

He was flabbergasted and couldn’t respond. It didn’t matter for it seemed she wasn’t looking for a response as she simply left the store. It seemed that that was just how it was going to be. One way or the other apparently he was going to have to meet her grandson whether he agreed to it or not.

_Well, that could’ve been more awkward._

He reached under the counter for his phone and saw he had two texts from Dean.

**Just avoiding a mountain of paperwork as per usual** , read the first text. The second said,  **Shit, Frankie just walked in. Maybe paperwork isn’t looking too bad.**

_Frankie?_ Cas thought. The name sounded familiar but he couldn’t remember exactly who she was. He tried his best to search through memories and only could come up with Dean talking about a woman that constantly hit on him at work. He supposed her name could’ve been Frankie.

He felt a little flurry of anger towards her. It surprised him some. It’s just because she sounds pushy. he tried to justify his feelings. And Dean has made it clear that he doesn’t like her so she should back off. He told himself this but there was some underlying emotion there that lurked behind his thoughts. But what else could it be? He couldn’t possibly be jealous. No, he was simply reacting out of a sickly feverish haze. That’s what was affecting his reactions. It had to be.

**Tell her to go fuck off** , he typed. **Or lie and tell her you’ve met someone and you aren’t available anymore. It almost always works with most pushy people.**

He set his phone down and looked to the clock that showed he had a few hours left or he could always close up early. It was hitting into the slow hours anyway. His phone gave a buzz and Cas grabbed his phone, pushing away his excitement as just being happy to have a distraction from being bored.

**Yeah, I told her to go change the oil on a car. That should keep her busy for a couple hours.**

Cas was quick to respond.

**Is she that dumb to take that long to change oil? lol Hell, I don’t know about cars but it ain’t that difficult to figure out. How do you manage? I guess you’re just that amazing ;)**

Cas played around on his phone and didn’t have to wait long for a response.

**Not as amazing you. I mean you run your business all by yourself.** He read the message while smiling to himself. Beneath the text was a gif of a bear blowing a kiss.

_Oh shit, is he flirting back?_ Cas thought frantically. How should he respond? He wasn’t good at this stuff. He didn’t know how to flirt in person let alone over a damn phone. He couldn’t wait too long or it would look like he didn’t feel that way. But did he feel that way? Cas was overwhelmed and fought to keep level headed. It didn’t help that he was feeling rather tired and would rather text Dean to meet him at his place to watch some movies and maybe snuggle. He could handle that but not actual emotions. Those took way too much work and dammit he still had to respond! _Fuck me, what do I say?_

Cas debated on which gif he should send and settled on Bashful, one of the seven dwarfs, blushing and saying thank you. It was a good portrayal of how he looked now.

**I’m thinkin’ of shutting the store down early and headed back home. I desperately need some hot tea and something to cuddle with. It’s been a long day.** Cas wrote and seconds later he got a text back.

**I wish I could be there for you, but I’m stuck here till 6. Have to make sure Frankie doesn’t break anything else, ya know?**

Cas grinned a little and typed, Well when you get back you’ll be hearing Elvis playing. He bit his lip when pressing send. Maybe it wasn’t a very forward text, but to Cas, it felt different sending it to Dean than if he were to send it to someone else like, say, Balthazar. It made him feel jittery like he’d had too much sugar. He didn’t want to think about it too much in case it decided to go away so he left it alone. It was hard to do when he felt the phone buzz and Dean’s name pop up. He wasn’t proud of the noise that he made when he read the message.

**I’ll look forward to it** ♥

His mind flew with emotions when his eyes looked at the heart. He felt almost rooted to the spot when he saw it. Cas didn’t know how to feel. It was all mixed up in the excitement that Dean had responded at all to his last text. He nearly let himself to begin overthinking it until he remembered how Dean reacted the night of the incident. It wasn’t too long ago. He was being too fast, too hasty. His mind was all too happy to carry on with fantasies. One of which involved Cas finally seeing Dean. There were so many scenarios… He couldn’t let himself get carried away, though. They were supposed to be friends. No matter how quick his pulse raced when seeing the tiny heart on the screen, he refused to mess up again. Dean could’ve not meant to send the heart and just didn’t notice. Although the thought sent a feeling of a heavy rock sinking down in his stomach, he had to remain logical.

He locked up the shop not long after. He felt dead beat tired and he could no longer breath out of his nose. Dayquil was no match against this cold nor the fever that was only getting worse with every passing minute. He wanted to lay down and sleep to the tunes of Elvis and The Beatles, while he dreamt of McHotpants. The last obstacle remaining in his way was just driving back home. I can make it, he thought while dragging his body inside the car.

The process of getting home was a slow and steady one. He avoided the busy roads, maybe once or twice pulled over to avoid throwing up in his car, and courageously fought his way through a grocery store to pick up Nyquil and Advil, before mustering up enough energy to make it across the parking lot and to his apartment building. He passed the mailman on the way in.

The first thought to run through his mind was, _Fuck, bills_ , followed by, _Hopefully, no one bothers me._

He just wanted to get his mail and hightail it to his place. No one was close by when he walked up to the beige rows of mailboxes. Cas did his best to not breathe through his mouth too loudly. How was it that a few steps could make him feel so winded? A roll of nausea overcame him for a moment that slowly passed when he let his head rest against the cool metal of his mailbox. He briefly imagined how he must look like some crackhead having withdrawals. He felt too sweaty in his t-shirt and jeans.   
Gradually, he stood up straight and fumbled with his keys. It pissed him off a little to see that there wasn’t even that much mail for him. All that work to only find a couple papers advertising for a car loan or if he were interested in joining a local church group. He considered throwing them into the nearest trash can, even looked around the room for one, when the lobby doors swung open and the person who stepped in completely distracted him from his task. _Oh, fuck, why?_

McHotpants didn’t look his way at first and Cas thanked the lord for that. He didn’t need to be seen like this. It was one thing for an old lady to view his disgruntled appearance, but for this guy to see him this way, all sweaty and having the sickly glow of fever, no that couldn’t happen. He tried to make himself invisible by fiddling around with his papers, keeping his head low and did his best to be uninteresting. He resisted the urge to see if McHotpants was still there. He refused to be caught staring.

He pulled at the collar of his shirt, trying to cool his boiling skin that managed to get even warmer under the idea that he was in the same room with the guy he had day-dreamed about.

_Had it been minutes or seconds since McHotpants stepped into the room? Was he still there? Oh god, why did he have to show up now? Well, maybe he wasn’t there anymore and if he was…_ Cas ran his fingers through his hair, trying to make it less chaotic, and pulled a little at his shirt to straighten it out a bit. He figured that he didn’t look the greatest, he certainly didn’t feel the most attractive, but at least he could’ve passed as presentable. It was all that he could hope for in his situation.

He took a deep breath and prepared himself to either turnaround and see that McHotpants had already gone on his way or if he were still somewhere in the lobby. It was a toss-up for which he was wishing for more. He gritted his teeth against yet another dizzy spell. Okay maybe he wouldn’t talk to the guy, but he had to be able to at least wave and smile for christ’s sake.   
Cas steadied himself, locked up his mailbox, and turned around not at all expecting for his eyes to get immediately drawn to the man that stood a mere few feet away from him. Their gazes locked, as the other man had been already looking at him when Cas had turned around. He didn’t know what to do. His cheeks became warmer when the guy gave him a look over, a sexy grin playing on his lips when he returned his focus onto Cas’ face.

_Does he always have to look this damn good?_ Cas thought. He couldn’t help it. From the few rays of sunlight, Cas could see that the man had dark green eyes. The flannel he wore clung to him in all the right places. He had the sleeves rolled up so Cas got a view of the well-toned muscled arms that he’d fantasized being wrapped around him. A five a-clock shadow outlined his jaw, and his hair had a slight curl to it. It was cute. He was cute. Hell, he was damn right hot and Cas still didn’t know what to do. His stomach gave an unpleasant lurch. He didn’t want to leave, yet if he didn’t go then there wouldn’t be anything left for him to do but make a bigger fool of himself in front of the man. McHotpants was still giving his sexy smug grin towards Cas, and how Cas wanted to take the rest of the steps to cut the distance and talk to him, but he couldn’t. His body had royally screwed him over. Another churn of his stomach was answer enough for him. Today just wasn’t going to be his day.

Just as it looked like the other man was going to take a step towards him, Cas bolted for the stairs. The elevator was too close and would’ve made it all too easy for McHotpants to follow him. Under different circumstances, he’d have dreamt and wished for McHotpants to come to find him.

Cas’ jaw clenched tightly, he wasn’t going to throw up in a hallway that was for damn sure. He cursed the fact that his room was several floors up and wondered why he’d ever wanted a room on such a high level. He came up to the landing that led to the set of stairs that Balthazar had broken a few weeks ago. They were fixed now, but the memory of that night left Cas feeling bitter. His body didn’t let him dwell on those emotions for too long. He practically knocked his door down when he shoved against the door, struggled with his keys, and shut his door firmly behind him when he stepped inside. He was going to lock the door when his feet carried him to the bathroom.

He felt better after his stomach heaved out all of the one sandwiches that he had attempted to eat. The cold porcelain felt amazing pressed against his overheated skin. He stayed there until he knew that he could stand once more. He took a glance at his wrist as cursed under his breath. It was nearly a quarter past 6. Dean would be coming home soon and he had the idea of planning a song that could say all of what his emotions were right now. He walked on shaky legs to his living room and searched for the record that had Elvis sitting with a guitar and a black background. He popped the record in and let it play just loud enough where he knew it could be heard by Dean.

A tremendous chill racked up his body while he was standing at his stove making tea. He felt disgusted by the thin sheen of sweat, as it gleamed under the fluorescent lights. Could his body not make up its mind? Cas grabbed the closet blanket off his bed and huddled into it. He finished off pouring honey into his cup of tea and shuffled to his bed. He didn’t know if Dean had gotten back yet, he wasn’t sure if he should’ve been playing this record knowing what song was on it and if it had been a good idea to have it be heard, but Cas felt it described his mood. He even started to hum along a bit.

“I'm all shook up. Mm mm mm, mm, yay, yay, yay”

Cas heard a door shut from out in the hallway and figured it must’ve been Dean coming home, so he sang out the next line of the song. “Well, my hands are shaky and my knees are weak. I can't seem to stand on my own two feet” To his surprise, he heard Dean’s voice join in and Cas forgot about singing the next line.

“Who do you think of when you have such luck?”

His voice sent a thrill up Cas’ spine and unconsciously his immediate response was to start smiling. He grinned like a fool and couldn’t be bothered to care. He joined in singing the next part with Dean now that the initial surprise had worn off. Their voices blended together as they sang, “I'm in love. I'm all shook up. Mm mm mm, mm, yay, yay, yay”

Cas’ feet started moving to the beat more. He didn’t stop himself from getting up to dance a little. It was slow and not at all very good due to his illness, but even with how his body ached, he’d never felt happier. They continued to sing along together. Dean made him laugh by trying to impersonate Elvis’ voice. Cas didn’t want the song to an end, but alas it had to come to an end and when it did he was sitting on the floor with half his body resting against the wall. He was out of breath and more than tired, but it didn’t matter to him right now.

“I’m so glad to be home,” said Cas. “This is exactly what I needed.”   
  
“Happy I could help, feel any better than earlier?”

He thought back to how throughout the whole day he had felt like someone who’d just been hit by a freight train, and even now his body still ached like that, but somehow hearing Dean’s voice made it more tolerable. It took his mind off of it.

“A little. Did that Frankie girl ever leave you alone?” He said, chuckling.

“I made an excuse, something about paperwork, I don’t really remember. Somehow after all this time she still hasn’t picked up on the fact that I’m gay. It’s amazing, really, when you think about it.”

Thinking of someone else making passes at Dean left a sour taste in the back Cas’ mouth. He didn’t like it but amounted his feelings up to it just being because the girl was being rude. Cas didn’t even have a reason to be jealous. So why was that sourness still there?

“You know what you should do? Find a t-shirt that’s all rainbow colored and wear it to work every day. I nearly had a run in experience with being set up with a chick when I was working today.”

Dean let out a half chuckle. “I think the rainbows may mess up my macho aesthetic but I’m willing to try anything at this point. But what’s this about you getting set up today?”

Cas didn’t miss how Dean’s voice seemed to shift when asking the question. It was so subtle yet Cas swore he heard some inclination in it. Maybe it was just wishful thinking… It did make Cas’ grin grow wider, though, at the idea that Dean might be anywhere near jealous.

“Oh, well ya know this really nice old woman comes in today and I start gathering up the flowers she wanted and she says somethin’ about me being handsome and how a nice young woman will snatch me up. So I rattle off an excuse that I’m too busy at work for such things and you know what she says to me?”

“What," Dean replied, deadpanned.

Cas pondered on whether he should tell Dean about the boy and how he was thinking maybe he’d follow through with a date if the guy ever showed up at the shop. He nearly considered against it, but hearing Dean talk this way amused him too much.

“She asks me ‘what about a fellow?’ and hands me a picture of her grandson. At that time I was sort of against it, ya know, it was weird, but I’d be lying if I said the guy wasn’t cute. He was easy on the eyes and all. I’m just not sure about it, but apparently next month she might drop him by the shop for him to meet me. Maybe I’ll go along with it if he matches up to the photo I saw.”

“Hm, getting set up by his grandma sounds like a real winner.”

Cas laughed till he was cut off by a harsh cough. He reached for his blanket and snuggled back into it. He rested his head against the wall now and quietly laughed a little more. He could hear Dean’s muffled laughter from the other side and for a while, they simply laughed. It felt good. It had been a long time since they’d merely just sat and talked and laughed like this. Cas missed hearing Dean laugh, really laugh.

“Certainly not the type I would day-dream about,” he said, still chuckling.

“Well, what is?” Dean sounded a bit more cheerful now and actually curious. 

Cas bit his lip as he instantly thought about McHotpants. Lord, did he really want to start describing him to Dean? He hadn’t really scored away his feelings for Dean yet. They were up in the air for all he knew. Still, he almost felt guilty for having thoughts about the guy and talking about it with Dean. It was silly of him, he knew, but it was difficult to describe exactly why it made him feel that way. He got on with it, though. What harm could it do?

“Tall. He’s gotta be tall but not be a bean pole either. There has to be some muscle there, ya know, and I don’t know I guess he’s got to have this confidence about him. Something in the way he smiles like he’s up to no good. I suppose a bad boy rebel vibe. A ruggish attire. Not clean and pristine. I feel like I’m makin’ an add for the paper or somethin’,” Cas joked, shaking his head and feeling embarrassed. “What’s your type, Dean?”

“Well if it’s warm I’ll stick it in.”

“Mhm, damn that’s gotta be the most romantic description I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“Well you know me, I’m Mr. Romance.”

Cas rolled his eyes. Had he honestly expected anything less from Dean? Dean would forever be Dean. It was something he hoped would never change.

“Hm,” Cas hummed. “And I guess if I follow suit then that one fellow and I will be getting on pretty well.”

“Touché.”

“Just has to buy me dinner first since I’m a class act an’ all," Cas said, chuckling a little before continuing on to say, “Ah, but I could never actually do that. I’ve got eyes for someone but every time I see them it’s never the right time.”

“He must really be something special.”

Cas’ eyes narrowed when he heard what sounded like disappointment coming from the other side of the wall. Was Dean interested? The sole reason he asked what Dean’s type even was, was to find out if it matched his own appearance. He hadn’t given him much to go off of, but then he hadn’t made it sound like he was serious either. He seemed interested when they’d been texting.

“Nothin’ is set in stone. He’s not the only one keeping me on my toes. I guess I’m just like the song. I’m all shook up. Nice singin’ by the way,” he said. “We sounded pretty good together. I would like to take credit for corrupting you.”

“And soon I’ll corrupt you to classic rock.”

Cas shivered, a chill going up his spine at the idea of being corrupted to anything by Dean. His mind carried on with how exactly Dean would corrupt him with classic rock. Right about now he’d be okay with snuggling on the couch with Dean listening to one of the band's he liked. It’d be even better if Dean, by chance, looked like Hottie McHotpants.

“Looking forward to it,” He meant to say more, but he was cut off by harsh coughing. His body shook until the fit ended and he was able to take a deep breath. “God, I hate being fucking sick. I feel so gross. Maybe the old lady was trying to give me a date out of sympathy because of how terrible I look. I mean I feel like I'm anything but sexy right now. Probably figured I needed help.”

“Well the cough does give you the gruff sexy voice”

“Of a fifty-year-old smoker, maybe. I see what you're into Dean,” Cas said jokingly.

“What can I say? Every man has his kinks.”

Cas started laughing. Why couldn't have Dean flirted with him when he wasn't sick? Though he had to admit, it made him feel less like crap. Even if Dean was just messing around. He could play along.

“Well, that makes me feel less upset about being sick. I've always been into musicians,” Cas paused and wondered if he should mess with Dean. _Fuck it_ , he thought. “There was that one time someone had me call them daddy. Caught me by surprise, I mean I wasn't used to having to be the one to say it.”

“Oh, you’re not, daddy?”

Cas blinked a couple times, stunned that Dean was still going along with this. He knew that Dean wasn't really serious. He had heard the teasing in his voice, but just hearing those words...Cas had no idea what to say back. Should he keep fooling around or put it to an end? He decided that this was all meant in good fun. It wasn't serious.

“I much rather being the one to hear it,” Cas said chuckling. “I had to let him down gently. He wanted all the control and that's somethin’ I don't do, Dean.” He let his words hang there for a moment before saying, “But like you said, every man has his kinks.”

He waited for a response, keeping in his nervous laughter and fidgeting with his blanket hoping he hadn't gone too far.

“That’s for fuckin sure.”

Cas bit his lip and struggled to scramble up onto his feet. His throat was starting to ache more than was tolerable. The only cure for it would be a double dose of Nyquil. He shuffled over to where he'd dropped the bag of medicine and said over his shoulder, “I wouldn't mind hearing a couple classic rock songs. I'm too lazy to change over the record.” He pulled out the Nyquil and poured himself a shot, downing it quickly before putting it down on a counter with a sigh. That stuff always tasted foul.

He settled himself against the wall and asked, “What are some good bands to listen to?”

“Hold on a second,” Dean said.

Cas heard him moving around and after a few seconds the starting of a guitar riff.

“What's the song?” Cas asked, but instead of a response Dean sang.

“I ain’t asking for much. I said, Lord, take me downtown, I’m just lookin’ for some tush.”

“Oh really now? Tell me more, Dean.” He never got an actual response. He listened to Dean sing along to the song and towards the end, Cas joined him during the chorus. When it finished, Cas noticed he'd been tapping his foot along to the beat and he had to admit that he'd liked the song quite a bit. “Who did that one?”

“ZZ Top.”

“Just lookin’ for a hot piece of ass,” Cas said, amused. “God, that reminds me of the time when Balthazar forced me to go to a strip club for graduation.”   
  
“Men or women’s?”  
  
“Men. Well, the first one we went to had women, but Balthazar saw I had no interest and decided to take it upon himself to find the closest men’s strip joint,” Cas laughed at the memory. “Shoved a wad of ones into my hand and practically shoved me to the main stage. I got so drunk that night, I hardly remember half the shit I did, but apparently, I tried to get up on the stage and dance with one of the guys. Balthazar found me nearly nude and pulled me down. Has to be the best night of my life.” A surge of guilt dragged down his smile. In all his best of times, Balthazar had been the main cause behind them. _I_

I’ll _give him a call tomorrow_ , Cas thought. Right now he was content to keep talking with Dean. He didn’t know why thinking or even talking with Dean caused a smile to lift his lips or create a flight of butterflies in his stomach, however, Cas wasn’t opposed to the sensation. For the first time, he was starting to feel happy again. Something he didn’t think would happen for a long time, so he settled for enjoying the feelings that came with Dean without putting much thought to it. Cas always messed things up when he put too much thought into something. Dean’s voice carried him out of his musings.   
  
“Well, you dancing in your underoos on stage had to be a sight for sore eyes. Wish I could have been there to see it.”  
  
Cas tried hard to keep his cheeks from heating up. He almost succeeded until an image of Dean being in a crowd of other guys watching him dance and strip on stage crossed his mind. Dean, being Hottie McHotpants, giving him that sexy smug grin as gazed at Cas. Cas wasn’t prepared to feel pleased by this idea nor the sudden rush of heat that pooled in his stomach as the image stayed in the front of his mind. It wouldn’t be going away anytime soon.

“That’s also the story of how I made nearly sixty bucks in one night. Balthazar had to beat the guys away, they were all so drunk and handsy. Had you been there who knows what would’ve happened. Knowing how drunk I was, a private showing would’ve been in the cards that night.”   
  
“Perhaps I’ll have to take you up on that sometime.” He could practically hear Dean’s eyebrows raising suggestively. He didn’t need to see him to know that it was true, but how Cas wanted to see Dean. It was becoming tougher to imagine him as anyone besides Hottie McHotpants and if Dean looked anything like him, Cas wouldn’t know what to do with himself. _I’d kiss that damn smirk off his face is what I’d do_. It was a daring thought, but at that moment Cas was in full fuck it mode.

“But if I do it then that means I’m making you get up on the pole too. It would be a shame to have only one of us fully nude.” Cas wasn’t sure where this was coming from. He also couldn’t seem to stop himself from saying these things. He blamed it on the fever for his lack of filter.   
  
“I guess we’ll have to make it a date then.” Was he being serious? Cas found it difficult to tell and he had nothing to go off of except Dean’s voice which hardly gave him indication to one way or the other. He decided to laugh it off, although his mind was racing and his heart started beating faster.

“For sure. Can’t forget about the black lace panties.” He was beginning to feel tired now, even though his mind was going about a million miles a minute. It had to be the medicine finally kicking in. Now it starts fucking working. Couldn’t have worked downstairs, could it? But Cas wasn’t too upset. He got to spend the night talking to Dean and that more than made up for what happened down in the lobby. He would do it twice over as long as the end result was the same, with Dean finally flirting with him. It would be a while before he’d be able to stop grinning like a fool.

“I’m sure you’d look fine in a pair, but not quite as good as me.”  
  
_Don’t confuse me goddammit_. His mind was getting sluggish now, he was fighting to stay awake and Dean has to go and throw this curveball at him. Well, Dean wasn’t going to win.   
  
“Yeah right. Put me in a pair of heels along with those panties and I could rock that better than anyone, but I wouldn’t be against seeing you in some lace.” Cas grinned smugly to himself while he heard Dean’s nervous laughter.   
  
“Yeah, well, I guess I’m gunna have to check my closet and see what we can work with.” More nervous laughter came from Dean in a few short chuckles. Cas was quite proud of himself to cause such a reaction.   
  
“Don’t go too far back inside the closest. I don’t wanna have to go in there and drag your ass out,” he said with a chuckle of his own. This was the first time he ever heard Dean get flustered. Serves him right. Shouldn’t have confused me, Cas thought while closing his eyes.   
  
“I don’t think there’s any chance of that Castiel.” His name came off sounding like velvet. A shiver went through him at hearing his full name fall from Dean’s lips. What was this man doing to him? _Dammit, now I’m flustered_.   
  
“That’s, uh, that’s a good,” said Cas, stumbling over his words, not knowing what to say. “I mean, um, good. That is good.” He winced at his response. It sounded as coordinated as a flailing seal and had the same intelligence as one. He tried to think of something else to say, ignoring the soft laughter he could hear coming from Dean. He gave up, sighing in frustration. “It’s not funny Dean.”

“I beg to differ, good sir. I find it quite amusing.”

Cas fought to not laugh. He had never heard such a bad impersonation of a British accent. He rolled his eyes, a witty response already forming.

“Oh, is that another kink of yours? Very bad accents? I must say I look forward to hearing you do a French one.”

“A French accent or a French man? Either is doable for me.” There was that smirk again. Cas could hear it clear as day and it irked him because his mind immediately went to Hottie McHotpants. Goddammit.

“I’d rather the accent. I don’t share all that well,” Cas said, thinking to himself that if he ever did get to see Dean in person he would die of embarrassment.

“Well I could do that, then you would have me all to yourself.”

Cas’ mind raced. He didn't know what to say. Only a few days ago Dean had bolted out the door, and now here he was talking about being Cas’. The very idea of having Dean all to himself both made his heart beat faster and caused him to wonder if Dean meant what he said.

“That's very tempting, Dean. Maybe another time when I'm not sick and there isn't a wall between us.” He let out a yawn and thought of how inviting his bed looked right now. The butterflies in his stomach had calmed and the day’s events had left him exhausted. “Goodnight Dean.”

“Sleep well Cas, talk to you tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you've enjoyed this newest chapter and as always feel free to comment and let us know what you thought. My co-writer and I had a lot of fun writing the last conversation between Dean and Cas before the chapter ended, so we hope you guys got some laughs out of it too :)


	15. Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I know it's been a while since our last update, but we're back for the summer and updates will become more consistent. I need to send a shout out to my dad who helped sapphic_writer and I when we had to write the car scene in this chapter. He picked the car and year for us and any mechanical car issues that Dean and his employees deal with at the shop. The pronunciation of the character name Ligeia is Lye-JEE-uh.

Dean stood at the entrance to his closet, pulling out various shirts and jackets before throwing them to the side and continuing his rabid search. There wasn’t much to work with outside of his usual style of band t-shirts and flannels. How do you dress gay? The closest thing he had was his Pink Floyd shirt with the rainbow on it, but that just screams fake hipster. Finally, he settled on taking a quick trip to Hot Topic before work. 

Cas was right or course. He was sick of Frankie hitting on him all the time, and he needed to put his foot down. Somehow after all this time he still hadn’t come out to her. 

Frankie’s family had taken him in for a while after the accident, her parents were college friends of his mother but they rarely stopped by Dean’s house. More often he remembered his mother bringing him and Sammy over to their house on warm summer afternoons while John was at work. They would all poke around in the yard looking for bugs, eating popsicles, and running through the sprinkler. They used to be good friends but when Frankie turned 12 and Dean was 13 something changed. He began to notice her giggling a lot more around him and playing with her hair, twirling it around and around her finger until it formed a perfect little ringlet that hung from the right side of her head. Dean didn’t understand her strange change in behavior until one day when he strayed into her room to grab something, he can’t remember now what it was, and saw a stray piece of pink paper peeking out of her top desk drawer. He knew He shouldn’t look at it but he did anyway and discovered about twenty different fonts of the same two words, “Frankie Winchester.” At this point, he knew he didn’t like girls in  _ that _ way. Everyone else in his class couldn’t seem to stop talking about this teacher’s rock hard tits or that celebrity’s bangin’ ass but he just couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. Sure women were beautiful but he would much rather have talked about the latest bond movie or TV thriller. From that point on he started hanging out with Frankie less and asking to be dropped off with a different friend instead when his mom went to visit. 

One night after the accident when he was staying at her house she asked him why he had stopped coming around. They were both sitting on the couch in the dark after their latest rewatch of the first Star Wars movie and Dean suddenly became acutely aware that they were in a rather intimate position, sitting under the same blanket with their legs pressed against each other and only the dim glow of the TV lighting the room. Dean was 17 then, and past old enough to know why he had never returned Frankie’s feelings. He stood up quickly and brushed some phantom imperfection off his pants in an attempt to be casual and hurried away. 

And that’s how it had been ever since, Dean always fumbling out excuses about why he skipped prom, or why he didn’t have a girlfriend, or why he needed to leave or move whenever Frankie started being a bit too forward with him. It began as a genuine fear that if she or her parents knew he would be kicked out and left without a place to live, then it was a mere habit, and now it had simply been too long. There is always an excuse to keep secrets if you look hard enough.

Dean eventually settled on a simple pair of dark jeans with a small smudge of grease near the bottom of the right pant leg and an AC/DC t-shirt with a few holes near the collar which he could change out of later.

**********

Dean stood between the shelf of Disney items and various anime paraphernalia looking at the small display of rainbow covered merchandise. There wasn’t exactly a wide array of options so it was between the white shirt with “Love Means Love” printed on the front in bold rainbow font or a black tank top that had the word “homo” printed across the stomach with an arrow pointing up above it. Eventually, Dean decided that he should probably go with the most blatant choice and chose the latter, throwing in a couple of rainbow-colored weaved bracelets for good measure. 

When he climbed into his car he promptly removed his shirt and chucked it into the back seat of the Impala, replacing it with his new purchase and sliding on the bracelets which pressed uncomfortably against his wide wrist. He gripped his steering wheel for a few moments and stared at them. They stood out sharply against his tanned skin and upon closer examination they had a slight sparkle to them. For a moment Dean felt the urge to rip the bracelets off and shove them in the glove box, but he shook it off and drove perhaps a little slower but more determined than usual to work.

He was the first to arrive, as usual, so he began the start of the day procedures and found himself finished a little early. With no other excuse to avoid his paperwork left, he retired to his office and commenced shuffling through receipts and tax forms, absentmindedly filing them away into the correct folders. He heard someone shuffling around the shop, presumably grabbing tools to get started with work for the day. It could be Brian, but it wasn’t likely due to his chronic lateness. Dean felt an overwhelming urge to go see who it is. As he stood up he quickly looked around the tiny space to see if there was some kind of stray jacket or flannel laying around he could put on to cover up his shirt. Suddenly his whole plan seemed absurdly childish. Though he seemed to be constantly tripping over stray flannels, there was none in sight. He was being ridiculous, he wears t-shirts to work every day, the only thing different about today was that it was a new shirt. 

He clenched his jaw, lifted his chin, and marched out into the shop. He saw Frankie peering down at the engine of a red 67’ Camaro with her head tilted to the side in confusion. 

“Hey Frankie.” 

Frankie whipped around, startled by the sudden noise behind her, and pressed her hand to her chest when she saw that it was just Dean.

“Fuck, I didn’t hear you coming up behind me.”

Dean let out a little uncomfortable chuckle and asked, “what are you working on?” She seemingly hadn’t noticed the shirt yet and that made it worse. He wished she would see it already so he could get it over with, like ripping off a bandaid. “

“I’m just trying to see what’s makin’ this engine steam.” She said, gesturing to the car behind her. Maybe he would have to get even  _ more _ obvious somehow. 

“Here, let me take a look.” He faked a yawn and stretched his arms out, puffing out his chest to make the shirt as visible as possible. By the time he was done with the overly long faked yawn and he looked back to Frankie she was frozen in shock. Her mouth was slightly agape and she didn’t seem to know what to say. After a few seconds, she shook away the look and replaced it with one of confusion. 

Pointing to the shirt she asked, “Laundry day?”

Mother. FUCKER. 

“No.”

She paused and wrinkled her brow before nodding meaningfully, “Ah, you didn’t want to dirty one of your shirts so you picked some up for free. Makes sense.”

_ HOW. _

“No Frankie, this is my shirt. It isn’t laundry day, it doesn’t belong to a friend, and it’s not just for work. This is MY shirt.” He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head forward slightly hoping this would help her read between the lines somehow. 

“Wait… so you’re…”

Dean gestured his hands in small circles to encourage her to finish the sentence.

“Gay?”

“Yes.”

She laughed and turned back to the engine. “Yeah, okay Dean.” She said in a half-mocking tone. 

“Frankie, I’m not kidding.”

She turned back around and tilted her head to the side, seemingly taken off guard by Dean’s serious tone. “You’re not gay, I would know. We’ve known each other for years. How could you not tell me that?”

Dean shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t the one who was supposed to be antagonized in this situation. 

“I mean, it didn’t really come up.”

Frankie crossed her arms over her chest, even more, agitated than before. “It didn’t come up? How long have we known each other, 12? 13 years? Who else have you come out to?”

Suddenly Dean was starting to feel pretty fucking guilty about this whole situation. “I mean, pretty much everyone outside of work.”

“All your friends?

“Yeah.”

“I  _ thought  _  we were friends.”

“No, I mean, yeah, we are. We are friends, I just didn’t want to tell you because, you know.”

Frankie uncrossed her arms which somehow made her look even more furious. She was standing ramrod straight, making full use of all 5 feet 3 inches of her height and it was slightly terrifying. 

“No. I don’t know. Enlighten me, Dean.” He didn’t like the way she dragged out the vowels in his name. This was going in a totally different direction than he had expected. 

“I mean, you’re always throwing yourself at me, you always have, since we were kids.”

“So let me get this straight,” she started in a dangerously level tone, “you knew that I liked you, and you decided to let me keep pining after someone I couldn’t have, even after you had already come out to everyone else, because… I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me.?”

Dean felt like a small child being reprimanded by a teacher for eating glue. When she laid it out like that it sounded pretty bad. 

“It just never seemed like a good time.”

Frankie let out a big sigh and closed the hood of the Camaro. “You know what, I just remembered that I have an appointment today, I would like to go to that now  _ sir  _ if that’s okay with you.”

“Wait, Frankie, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I was being an idiot. The whole reason I didn’t tell you in the first place was to avoid hurting you but instead, I picked this stupid way to come out and I ended up making the situation worse by drawing it out.” 

His statement seemed to deflate her and she relaxed and closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath to calm down.

“I’m so sorry I haven’t been straight forward with you Frankie, but if you’re okay with it I would like to start over as friends. That is if you’ll have me.” He extended a hand out to her in a gesture of friendship he hoped she would accept. She stared at it warily for a moment before taking his hand in hers. 

“Fine, I suppose we can try being friends again under one condition.”

Dean furrowed his brow in confusion. “Condition?”

“I get first dibs on all the hot guys when we go out.”

Dean let out a huff of laughter partially at the joke and partially with relief that the tension of the conversation had been deflated.

“You drive a tough bargain, but I agree.”

At that moment Brian stumbled into the shop, causing Dean to whirl around in surprise. Brian looked at his shirt and nodded with a slight smile playing across his lips. “Called it, I knew there was a reason you hired this hot piece of ass over the other applicants.”

“I’m not into twinks, get to work.”

“Hey, I am not a twink, if anything I would be an otter.”

“Do you even know what that means?”

“That I’m one of nature’s most majestic creatures?”

Dean shook his head, half amused. “Sure, I’m going to go finish up some paperwork, I expect at least five oil changes and three standard fixes done by the time I emerge from my cave for lunch so get on it.”

And with that, he returned to the ever-growing mountain of papers.

 

**********

With the main tension of the day out of the way, Dean was excited to get off work and spend some time with Samson. He had texted John earlier that day and he agreed to let Dean see him and invited him to stay for dinner. He was hesitant to accept the invitation, but the last time he had seen John he seemed to have it a lot more together. He was holding out an olive branch and Dean would have to accept spending time with him if he was going to have a relationship with Samson. Even still, he didn’t relish the idea of spending a whole evening in that house. 

On the way over he tapped his thumbs nervously on the steering wheel and slowly turned the music up louder and louder to drown out his nerves. As he pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine he looked down and realized that he was still wearing the same shirt from earlier. He cursed himself and tossed a longing look at the torn up AC/DC shirt still lying haphazardly in the back seat, considering which would be worse to wear outside. Well, I guess it’s better to see now if he has really changed than to wait until later. Still, he hesitated before knocking on the door, his heart skipping a beat. He really is an idiot. 

John answered the door wearing a cheap looking novelty apron which read “Kiss the Chef.” 

“Dean,” he said, flashing an award-winning smile, “come in.” He stepped back into the house and Dean followed tentatively, the smell of ham and potatoes swirling around him and making his mouth water. 

“Deanie!” Samson whipped around the corner of the hallway and latched onto Dean’s legs, beaming up at him with his round and all too innocent face. 

“Hey, little man.” Dean laughed and grabbed Samson, tossing him lightly in the air and making him giggle before holding him steady in his arms. “How’ve you been.”

“I got a new car.” Samson pulled a red truck out of his pocket and made engine sounds with his mouth, mimicking the truck whizzing around the streets. 

“That’s a nice truck, maybe you can get a real one someday.” His face lit up at this idea and Dean set him back on the floor and crouched down beside him so they were face to face.

“Will you play cars with me Deanie?”

“After dinner little man.” Dean held up his hand for a high five and Samson considered it for a second before reciprocating and running back to his room. 

When he stood back up he caught John’s eye’s locked on his shirt. Though moment’s ago he was nervous about the decision, with John in front of him he squared his jaw and clenched his right fist, ready to stand his ground to the very end. John turned around without making eye contact and marched back into the kitchen, “Dinner will be ready in a minute, feel free to have a seat.” It wasn’t exactly a positive response but it could have gone much worse. 

He pulled out his phone and started fiddling with it, pointlessly opening and closing various apps to waste time. He looked up when a woman stumbled out of John’s room looking disheveled, hair uncombed, circles under her eyes, wearing a loose maxi dress which hung off her thin frame. When she saw him she straightened up and made a feeble attempt to fix her hair with her fingers. “You must be Dean.” 

“Yeah, and you are?” 

“Ligeia. I’m an old friend of John’s.” 

As he looked at her he realized that she looked familiar, but all he could remember were faint memories of a younger woman walking through the house on mornings when the house wasn’t quite rearranged from the fighting that came the night before. The woman nodded when Dean didn’t respond and retreated back into the bedroom presumably to make herself look more presentable. John poked his head out of the kitchen and looked back at the door where Ligeia had just disappeared, 

“I hope you don’t mind her joining us. We reconnected last week online, the internet’s a funny thing huh? Haven’t seen her in forever and now here she is.”

Dean nodded. “Things are like that now I guess, the past is always there in digital space ready to be hunted down again.” He could remember looking up the article again and again after the accident, rereading it to remind himself that what happened wasn’t some kind of sick creation of his own mind. **_Father Kills Wife and Son in Tragic Car Accident_**. Tragic. As if the public needed to be told how to feel about the worst day of his life. 

John gestured into the kitchen with the serving spoon in his hands. “It’s almost done if you want to set the table.” Dean got up and opened the cupboards, grabbing a stack of mismatching plates and throwing them on the table, placing the SpongeBob one next to him for Samson. John grabbed the half-carved ham from the cutting board and placed it on the table with the assortment of other sides. 

Everyone settled down at the table in staggered intervals and began scooping food onto their plates. Out of old habit, Dean served Samson first, moving small portions of each dish onto his plate (including the fried green beans despite his protest) and began cutting his ham into smaller bite-sized pieces. 

“Awww, what a good big brother.” Dean looked up at Ligeia who was looking at him with bleary eyes, head tilted. Dean swallowed back his bitterness and tried to remind himself that she was probably trying to be friendly. 

“Yeah well, I’ve had a lot of practice.” He shot a quick sharp look at John who was busy pushing a small pile of mashed potatoes onto a sectioned off piece of ham. He always a neurotic eater. 

“Butter!” 

Dean looked to his left to see Samson with an almost comical pout on his face.

“What?”

“My tatos and bean greens need butter.”

Dean sighed and pushed his chair away from the table. With Sammy it was ketchup, he put it on everything, even toast. He made his way to the fridge, ruffling Samson’s hair as he passed by. He set about looking for the butter, opening drawers and scooting around tupperware containers.

“Dean I got it!” by the time he turned to look John was already on his feet and halfway there. Dean rolled his eyes and turned back around. 

“It’s fine, I can find it.”

He grabbed the jug of milk and lifted it off the shelf to look behind. 

Ice shot through his veins, freezing him in place, but it was quickly melted and was replaced by burning rage. He spun around locked John in place with his eyes.

“What the fuck is this,” he pointed at the six-pack of Coors resting at the back of the fridge. 

“Dean, you’re overreacting, calm down.” John threw a glance back at Samson who was looking pretty startled. “Look, I told you I’ve been clean for six years, It’s not unreasonable to have a drink or two after work. I’m keeping it under control Dean.”

“Oh okay, so I guess you’ve talked to your sponsor about this?”

Dean slammed the fridge shut and squared his shoulders to John. He was not about to back down. He took John’s shit for so many years because he was a kid, but he wasn’t anymore, he could do something. 

“AA doesn’t know everything. The program has been great for me, but I’m a grown man Dean, I can manage yourself.” 

Dean almost laughed. “Oh yeah? You were a grown man when you killed mom and Sammy too so forgive me if I don’t trust your self-control.” He broke away from the conversation and began feverishly searching all the places John thought were secret where he used to hide his booze. Inside an empty coffee can, behind the pipes of the bathroom sink, inside the pocket of his winter jacket. His fury was so blinding he didn’t care that he was ripping the entire house apart like a madman. He stormed downstairs with John following closely behind trying to convince him that he was crazy and there was nothing else. Dean shoved his hand inside the laundry shoot and reached up to feel on top of the broad wooden ledge above the opening. His hand hit cool hard glass. He grabbed the bottle and looked at the label, seeing that it was a cheap off-brand rum. Not something you drink for enjoyment, just something you tolerate to get drunk. 

He knew he shouldn’t be surprised by this but now there was no doubt about what was going on. His eyes unfocused slightly and all the fight left him. He was stupid to think John could change. He set the bottle on the folding table and walked past John who was saying something he couldn’t here. 

“I’m done. I’m not doing this.” He wasn’t sure if he was talking to John or himself. 

He walked to Samson’s room and started shoving clothes into a transformers backpack that was laying on the floor. He could tell John and Ligeia were saying something to him, Samson was crying, but his vision was tunneled. He shoved the toy truck he gave Samson as a gift into the bag and zipped it up. 

“Samson is coming home with me.” He grabbed Samson on the floor and the Samson struggled against him. “You can come get him when you can bring your sponsor to me and he can tell me you’re sober.” John threatened to call the cops, called Dean crazy, and said anything else he could think of but Dean just floated to the car, placed Samson and the bag in the back, and left. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and sticking with this story! We appreciate you and love all the comments that you guys send us :)


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